I walk around this neighborhood
And wave at people who know my
Face but don't know my name,
(which is fine) but someday I have to
Leave it all behind, despite how well
I love that tree, those flowers, that
Birdhouse…because this is no longer
My home, and I guess it never was.
I suppose I should embrace impermanence,
But just once it would be nice
To find something I can
I know I don't own the ground
I exist upon, these four walls contain
My things, but not my meaning.
I'd planned to stay for the rest of my days
And I know things change (in fact,
none of my plans have played out
so far) but I'm so far from where I
Thought I'd be. I realize it's folly
To think I can predict the future–
no one can–but was a time I at least
Had some outline of where I was going.
Now that I'm unmoored, who knows where
The wind may carry me.
To some that may sound exciting, but oh...
I see my dreams, my goals, floating away,
I'm lost at sea.
I see these houses that seem
So cozy, so charming, with yards
Just so, and I know I won't
Be able to afford anything like them
Anytime soon. All my knowledge
Of plants and blooms and companions
Left dormant, put to bed,
A garden in winter, cold and
Close to dead.
I'll find a way back.
But oh, dear God in heaven, how
I am so tired of beginning again.
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Compelling and original writing
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