Home. We have a lot of homes in our lives: actual physical structures, places or people when we feel safe and happy, and even a heavenly home, which we (hopefully) all long to see… Here’s my poem “Home” based on the love of nature I acquired in my childhood home, far removed from the world.
By Sara Marie Allen
I feel shockwaves of repulsion
at urban houses,
close and small,
and green oases
in concrete encasements.
My heart pounds
the rhythm of trees swaying.
My lungs fill
with the expanse of growing fields.
My veins swell, coursing with earth,
and my back breaks for hard labor
while my mind flies
to the wild refuge of natural things,
alighting on a stone wall fence
down a winding, dirt road