Thursday, July 12, 2007

Poem: TCK

Like the migrant bird 1
traveling place to place
frequently resting, never stopping
journeying evermore;
no place is permanent; 5
no place is strange.

Like the tree
in shallow soil,
its roots do not go deep,
easily transplanted – reaching ever out, 10
ever striving to find
a good nestling spot.

Like the hybrid in nature,
the collection of specks
partly one, partly another 15
and yet maintaining its own society –
never truly belonging with others –
it stands in a class of its own.

We dwell on the shrunken earth –
Ever Moving, 20
Ever Searching,
Never truly
Belonging.

HRLyons

No comments:

Six More Months of Shuffle and Change

The last post I wrote was July 2018. We were settling into routine, finding a groove, and trying to fit our family of five into a two-bedroo...