Adrift
What it means to have a home and what it means to not.
Home was
where the corn grew
I sword fought my brother
climbed the weeping willow
swam in cool lake water
the very best view
at sunset.
Home is
empty
when your mother's grave
is not.
Home never
was 37 B
I slept there once
a few years or more
only ever where the addicts would go
to ask "is Nicki here?"
Where a man was shot dead
50 yards from my window.
Where I barricaded the door
with my dishwasher.
It was only where I dreamed
of home.
Home became
more than just a place
to put my head
it was a hope
where trees shed their leaves
37 B was
a ledge
I could leap from it
or fall.
I almost did
almost wasn't
But just waited instead
for just a few more
deep
breaths.
Home is
where my feet touch
dirt roads
My children chase
snakes and frogs
The trees shed their leaves
in the fall
More than just a place
of peace.
About the Creator
Meagan Dion
Hi, my name is Meagan. I am a mom to four kiddos whom I homeschool. I am also a glassblower, creator, and writer. I aspire to finish and publish my memoir, but it's going to take a lot of time and coffee. Coffee is a verb, do you coffee?
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Comments (6)
I have rediscovered you from Vocal + Assist! This a profoundly moving poem. I feel a deep personal connection - as I drink coffee here in Brisbane Australia at 1.43 am! ‘It was only where I dreamed of home. Home became more than just a place to put my head it was a hope where trees shed their leaves.’ Pauline 🌸
Beautiful
Such heart and pain, sadness, joy and everything in between. What a lovely nostalgic and deep felt poem.
well done, it starts so quaint but turns so dark effortlessly. I enjoyed reading this
So well written. These lines are so hard hitting "37 B was a ledge I could leap from it or fall."
🧡