I saw the land
Crazed in a glory of dry Earth
Blistering the soles of my feet as
I tried to replant my roots
Gingerly I stood
Wanting to sink in
Wanting to be engulfed by that which birthed me

I stood at the gate of a home that had forgotten forgetting me
Hearing it branding me with the name that could only be mine
Calling me with the name that should only be mine

And I birthed three children then,
Out of my guttural reserves I echoed three
And laid them bare to the wind
If it pleased to carry them
To an ear with the heart to listen
I tried to replant my roots, as if these feet recognized this soil
With saltine tears I water my roots and lay them out to bake.