How to Come Home
Ow, but why. Is it pain,
or the memory of pain,
lava or cooling lava or
a lava dream. The lava
will turn into land, look,
a new mountain, even.
Now you are the guest.
Mt. Welcome Home
invites you in. Soon you
see past the strangeness
of all the new rock, the
land that now blocks
a portion of the sky over
your town. One morning,
you will start the coffee,
stand before the window,
and the sky in your head
will match the sky you
stare at. Sleeping town,
sleeping volcano, cool
streets, steady, steady,
sleep ready for you again.
"Now you are the guest"...strangest feeling when the place we grew up becomes home to someone else! Lovely poem as always...great to see you Hannah!
ReplyDeleteOooh. I identified with "see past the strangeness" and...well, with all of it.
ReplyDelete