I Looked
I looked for home in
The familiar-not faces,
The way the streets yawn open in the sunlight
The houses, made of stone, that grew so tall overnight, with no one to climb.
The songs I should learn again.
I almost lost my way.
I looked for home in
The green-grass lawns, my legs longer than the sky,
The laughing girls speeding by,
The smiles, too large to fit the palm of my hand,
The stars in a strange sky they told me I could see.
There are no signposts here.
I looked for home in
The pockets of the blue dress I wore, once,
The gleaming-new shoes,
The photos I do not hang up,
The old door-keys.
Envelopes and biscuit tins are empty.
I look for home in
myself, turning, so very slowly.
The light falls,
I see the shadow of it,
The shape, unfamiliar,
Under my sea-salt skin,
In my hard bones.