The sky is a different shade of sky here. When I see the outline of tall bushes and street lamps illuminated by the navy of the night, I think of cul-de-sacs and the sound of doorbells on Halloween. As I peer past triangular roofs into the blue, I am reminded of the way I would bike through mulch with popsicles in hand. This one shade of blue is perfectly preserved from ten years ago, and the past feels as distant as the sky.
Back home, across the ocean, the sky is a different shade of sky. When I peer through the light blue I think of long stalks of wheat and supermarkets. The shrouded-in-clouds-ceiling reminds me of cafe talks and movie-nights. An amalgamation of hues and tints and growth and happiness. As I embrace this blue, it hugs me back.
I hope to feel embraced by the blue here soon, but for now I cling to the constancy of the moon.
My name is Bettina, and I have lived in Germany for the past ten years. When I came to UVA, my homesickness as a first-year seemed to be amplified. Paired with a tedious course-load, my first semester was really difficult. I wrote this poem in the height of my longing for home.
Now, my second semester in, this blue has started to embrace me – but only because I embraced it back.