remind me of home
the one I can't return to
where spring was an artisan;
lending its hand
to suburban midwest.
where I didn't try to carry
the world on my back
because I didn't know
beyond my yard my woods my neighbors
on cloudy spring days in the city
the colors seem to
and my heart is grateful for this town--
how beauty is different and deep here.
and yet I long
for my house upon a little hill
and the times when i could always