At Home

How at-home I am

within the sound

of Elena's poem-voice,

even when she speaks

of realities I've never

seen, heard, felt, known:

her Bible-childhood,

the landscape of rural

western Illinois,

the names of birds

and beasts and flowers

not found within

seven solar-systems

of my old stomping grounds

in working-class Boston.





Poetry by Uncle Meridian The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 208 times
Written on 2022-04-26 at 09:41

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
The right poems can do that.
2022-04-26