The Epitome of Old is Young in a New Way

Whenever I am here,

I know the birds are singing for me

I know my bed will welcome my outline

A state of mind within another

Because my heart cries for the past me that was here

And my mouth smiles because I finally returned

Steady now.

Don’t underestimate the feelings that’ll arise

When you see your sisters run to the door

Tall now

Too tall for comfort.

There are these colors, and pictures

Outgrown?

You haven’t outgrown anything, just ran far

To get nowhere in particular

A meal, old clothes, a picture you’d wish to toss but,

don’t you dare.

I go home when I visit America

I go home when I visit my mother’s

Home, where my pockets are emptied

Many men hold their hands out there

Like my sisters at the door,

Waiting for a gift

I smile,

Because I can hear the birds singing

And I’m back again,

Waiting to leave