Landing here
Waves in my ears
Salt in my hair
Sun on my skin
I recall
The wonders
Of this place
That have settled
A bit
Of my heart,
These pieces
Of us
That welcome
Us home.
And it is magic,
And not mine
But somehow
Still
Possesses me.
And my mind
Stretches
To other boroughs
And prior returns.
Now there is
Mud
And moss
And the sound
Of my craft
And the dip
Of a paddle
And the wild and steady songs
Of the ones
To whom
This place,
As I do,
Belongs.
And now there is
Brass and a beat
Glitter and glue
Feathers and fur
And our bodies
Claiming spaces
Bigger than we knew
We needed
And I bow before
All the beings
We’ve become
In our revelry.
And the perfect
Weather
Stirs
And blesses me.
And stretching
Further still,
I sink
Into the homes
I’ve known
Mostly
In dreams
Whispering
As I find my tongue,
« Je suis si heureuse d’être ici »
And the baie
Is happy
To see me too.
And
I call in
The humans
I’ve built
This life
Around
Scattered
And
Scattering
To the places
They’ll grow
To be from.
To the stages
And tracks,
Studios
And trails,
And places
We can’t quite
Make out
With which
We share
Them.
Mar 31
Mar 31, 2026 at 7:38 AM UTC
Landing here
Waves in my ears
Salt in my hair
Sun on my skin
I recall
The wonders
Of this place
That have settled
A bit
Of my heart,
These pieces
Of us
That welcome
Us home.
And it is magic,
And not mine
But somehow
Still
Possesses me.
And my mind
Stretches
To other boroughs
And prior returns.
Now there is
Mud
And moss
And the sound
Of my craft
And the dip
Of a paddle
And the wild and steady songs
Of the ones
To whom
This place,
As I do,
Belongs.
And now there is
Brass and a beat
Glitter and glue
Feathers and fur
And our bodies
Claiming spaces
Bigger than we knew
We needed
And I bow before
All the beings
We’ve become
In our revelry.
And the perfect
Weather
Stirs
And blesses me.
And stretching
Further still,
I sink
Into the homes
I’ve known
Mostly
In dreams
Whispering
As I find my tongue,
« Je suis si heureuse d’être ici »
And the baie
Is happy
To see me too.
And
I call in
The humans
I’ve built
This life
Around
Scattered
And
Scattering
To the places
They’ll grow
To be from.
To the stages
And tracks,
Studios
And trails,
And places
We can’t quite
Make out
With which
We share
Them.
