Far and Countless Cries From Home

Page Forty-nine

Wed 5 May 2010…   Turning harder

This title is the last line of a poem I wrote years ago, and since those poems (the whole notebook) seems to have been thrown into the dumpster by the psycho landlady on the day she was moving me in to her building, I haven’t seen the thing for years. I no longer remember the rest of it. (Yes, mental landlady took it upon herself to throw certain of my belongings into her dumpster on the day she was moving me in, without so much as a by-your-leave).

When I wrote it, I still had my human family (though the way I had them was always precarious) and my animal family. I was much more “at home” than I am now, and yet there was still always this feeling of not having found the “home” of someone who understood me.

How much further I am away now… the human family lost in 1999… animal family taken and killed in 2008…  Further, and infinitely more cries from home… a literal home, a soul home, a heart home…

Letting go tears in deserts where I stare and roam,
Far and countless cries from home.
(part of the book Being Toward Death)
~~~~  website  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


1 Comment

  1. sehnen said,

    June 15, 2010 at 9:52 pm

    I’m not one who uses the little yellow faces, myself.

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