To be there under the shade of lemon trees
where my fingers can dig into the terracotta earth
or to be here, where cold nips at my skin
in summer and the spring, little hints of winter
always alive and well, in every greeting and farewell
I am, as you can see, often divided
between oceans and places, sometimes in the same room
I am divided between corners and angles
where I can have the best view
where I can hear the most and feel the least
where I can see the perfect way the sun dances
into our space around noon,
when it hits the glass just right
and divides, into colors, into blooming flowers
no matter the season, no matter the year  
I divided, shuffle around as if I were a photographer
Searching for the angle where it hits your face,
coming to light
coming to life