i am always making a home for myself, always searching for a place to root myself down into, geographically and inwardly, i am an immigrant, i come from a long line of people who left their small portion for the promise of more, some of them got to feast on the things they hoped for, others did not.

i pursue comversations with them inside the thickets where my trust sometimes falls, gets stuck.

loss wears many different coats.

grief grieves many different things.

still, always the bird that knocks at my window, says:

don’t look back.

don’t look back.

don’t look back.

i am only flesh, i give myself this, only longing

also, compass

also, map

also, pilgrim

also, searching.

© liezel graham 2024