April 26th poem
Saturday, April 26, 2014
Even then, parked at the crest of a large hill in a Tennessee Valley town,
waiting for my mother to run into the Smoky Mountain Market
surrounded by dark green,
held aloft by the hill, held in by the convex lid of the sky
and across Chapman Highway an empty lot of kudzu
its junk & soul secret
even then I felt Where are we?
felt Home.
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