Where am I?
For those who ask:
I am in the home I grew up in
Between the intersection and the train tracks
(Did you know, when I was little and up too late
I heard the whistle of the train
And I thought it was the trumpeting of angels
Come to take me in the night.)
And where am I, Lord?
Where will this be
In history’s books?
Just down the street from a post office
Built during the civil war for shipping shoes
Still open—an essential service
In a time of worry, as it was in the time of war
(There have been sixteen cases in my town
And it has not yet touched me.)
And oh, where am I, my love?
I am with my family
Keeping my hands busy
So my mind stays still
I am in bed, or on the floor,
Or in the living room, or on the porch,
Or putting grooves in the driveway
As I stop to smell the flowers
that have bloomed the same this year
as they have on every other
except this year I have someone to compare them to and
not a blossom measures up to you, my love.
Where am I?
Home
Safe—as safe as one can be
In a familiar place
All of these are true
(But the first answer that comes to my mind
Is always “still miles away from you”)
Like this? toss me a ko-fi so I can write more <3
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