I lie in wait,
Peering into the nothingness before me.
One fruitless, leafless, lifeless tree
hoping for a brighter sun.
The rising sun contrasting the
darkness of my soul.
I yearn for a renewal –
For those strange, familiar faces,
For the places I would go but can, no more.
I’ve seen new persons here, new avenues,
but they’re not the same.
(How could they be?)
There is no comfort in that empty matchbox
inappropriately labeled “home”,
No caring in my neighbours’ eyes.
The good things I appreciate,
The opportunity is worthwhile,
Succeed I must,
But for Home…I long…
I’m swept away in a winter breeze
and taken to a warm place;
An imperfect place filled with perfectly imperfect people
destined for perfection.
I can feel my skin transforming beneath the piercing rays of sunlight.
The leaves are green; the trees: alive.
Beads of perspiration trickle down my face,
while a river overflows in my heart.
I stand in the junction where east, west, north, central and south
I stand at the crossroads of life
“Yuh movin’ friend?”
Yes…I am HOME…
© 2001 Carla-Marie Ulerie
© 2001 Howard University.
(First Published in limited print edition, An Anthology of Verse and Prose, by the Composition for Honours Class, Howard University, Spring 2001. Professor E.R. Braithwaite)
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