I wrote this poem today in response to Brian Vos’s weekly poetry prompt (www.brianvos.com). This week: Disturbing – Not disturbed. Here’s the link: https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/107936767/posts/3896330399
Not sure if I stuck to the script, but this is what the prompts inspired.
Am I home yet? My camping chair follows the sun, heliotropes, we, orientation for beginners. Front garden, back, this should feel easy, intuitive. Am I home yet? I channel what cannot be mine to plug gaps. I fill holes, always a borrower, waiting in amongst the daffodils, my nose tickled west. Am I home yet? Beginnings and endings, cheek to cheek, the upright supporting the knotted, gnarled tangles of yesterdays, juicy greens cover last year’s leaves, sticks and skeletons. Am I home yet? How far can heartstrings stretch? I watch vapour trails in bluest March skies. People trying to get to where they’ll never belong. Moss on paving slabs. Welcome. Am I home yet? My camping chair follows the sun as I wait for my moment, the journey. Winds play with me, blow their secrets into my ear. I stare at your face in the distance. Am I home yet?