This city is becoming more of a faded death stirring
memory I am between cemeteries Mother’s up a hill on the south side and Father’s
on an trifling eastern peak. I revere this city with its rich history and tumultuous
existence, something we both share, but I am not at home here nor am I at
peace. Walking down these broken streets I feel bleak and disconnected. Blocks
from Father’s house sorrows whip up my pace and distance bandages my wounds. I
am a foreigner in my own country something less than a tourist lagging on the burden
of an over scuffled past.
No comments:
Post a Comment