can we come home now

Swallowing defeat, tasting pride, chewing satisfaction up and spitting misery out

The sky as an ever-changing map

The cherry blossoms as red-cheeked children, smiles missing teeth

The ripples in the water as words we do not say

Over the canyons, over the falls, over the hill where the winds stay stagnant and a heartbeat echos for a lifetime

That celestial permanence where nature breathes deeply and does not choke, floats facedown in the river and surfaces screaming

The cornfields as a compass, guiding you home, over the dirt roads

Rain as needles peppering the skin

The sun as a world-weary neighbor who rarely shows her face anymore

The trees as teachers, as swaying women, as soldiers

Slender, gnarled, thick, imposing, strong, wounded, hunched over

The creeks overflow, the daisies wilt, like clockwork summer comes again

Like the story’s been written out, and you’re still young enough to appreciate it

The mountains as mediators, smoothing over the valley’s cascading fury and clenched teeth

The weeping willows as rambunctious cousins, sorry to see you go

The wildflowers as pins on the map, pockmarking the horizon

As if you don’t know this path, as if the land isn’t in your bones and the dirt isn’t buried in the lines of your palms

The fire escape as an ephemeral vehicle that transcends space and time

As a corporeal being who washes the blood off your freckles

And spits on your enemy’s boots, lends you a shoulder, a box of tissues

That teaches you to tilt your face to the sky and let each pounding needle tear at your nose, scream into your red mouth, and fall down wailing

The sky hums with electricity, that vast neon oil spill, that dreary whirlpool of murky smog, cotton candy blue melting to warm pink