Poem: Home


I want to go back home to 

the smell of the Mississippi and Beale.

To the place where I could get 

A wedding-cake snow cone from Jerry’s

with ice cream swirled in.

A place I could get a cold treat

and some familiarity. 

Where crime flurried all around 

but I never felt scared on the streets 

because that is where people looked like me. 

When our eyes met, there was an understanding. 

I knew and they did too.