Sunday, June 23, 2013

Day 19: Hometown

My hometown is the same as my
Mother’s whose own mother was born only
Fifteen miles south, slowly growing north.
Her favorite story, she whispered with a girlish
Smile as we crossed that bridge over Grimesland: 
When I was a girl, I burnt down those woods
Over there.

My hometown is the same as my
Father’s, where he moved from dirt and
Disrespect across town - away - to a family 
He could call his own.  Each time he looked -
at us, at home - his eyes gleamed
Bright and blue.

My hometown is the same as my
Sister’s, who escaped briefly to that college
Town on a hill two hours west,
Only returning to a small headstone
In the middle of the green graveyard –
Beside my father’s, below grandmother’s in the center
Of my hometown.

My hometown is the same as my six-year old
Son’s, born in the same hospital as me,
His eyes wide open and blue.  His favorite story
Is of my mom walking into the nursery
His first day on Earth. As she bent closer
To whisper love and adoration, his newborn hand
Responded, wrapping around her pointer finger
At the hospital in our hometown.