Two Homes

California seems an awfully long way from Oregon, these days. Winter is lovely, but I'm far more fickle than the seasons, and I'm ready for a temporary change.


Two Homes

My body has one home, a humble place,
that knows me only by the empty space
I leave behind as lightly as a ghost
whose footsteps tread the floor without a trace.

My heart, too, has a home, so far from here,
but closer, yet, and ever more so clear;
perhaps a dream, or just a wish at most,
but even dreaming can be counted dear.

And I? I do not mind this double fate,
for as my heart is stamping at the gate,
my flesh consents to play the patient host
and so the two, in bondage, bear the wait.