There goes our home. I did not feel anything

when we left, no yearning

for everything familiar

that is now lost–


usurped by the mere promise

of change. I did not even look



back. Sometimes I wonder what is

to be said of my apathy. How can something

that means so much to another mean nothing

to me?


I organize clutter

into boxes, reducing my years

into labels until they are finally

empty and put away, like how


torn-out linoleum is replaced

by the sound of my feet thumping

on the new wooden floors.


I got used

to getting off at another stop, writing

this strange address whenever I am asked

to reveal a little more

about myself.


This is home now. Funny how

I have always struggled with learning

how to forget. Now I’d give the world

and back

to remember.



and then, a year.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s