Poetry About Homesickness

Rain reaches this window differently than it reached the roof at home. I miss the stair that complained beneath the third step. A certain soup can return an entire kitchen without warning. Distance sharpens details I barely noticed while living there. The old street continues each evening without my footsteps. I say my address aloud to keep its rooms from fading.

A certain soup can return an entire kitchen without warning. New friends are kind, yet cannot remember who I was at twelve. The moon is shared, but its light falls on unfamiliar walls. Homesickness is love with nowhere nearby to set its bags. Sometimes a phone call makes the distance larger before it helps. One day this place may join the map of places I long for.

Rain reaches this window differently than it reached the roof at home. The old street continues each evening without my footsteps. I say my address aloud to keep its rooms from fading. Homesickness is love with nowhere nearby to set its bags. I build small rituals from the things I managed to carry. One day this place may join the map of places I long for.