Home

Home could have started

With the wind

Blowing high over the ridge,

Fresh off the ocean.

Or home could have stayed

Like memories

In the fog flowing

As waves do.

Crashing, as waves do,

High against mountains,

Breakwaters, dreams,

Breaths.

Deepwater memories,

Blue-green futures, envisioned.

Annealed dreams, perhaps.

Or the past.

Perhaps forgotten experiences.

Perhaps hopes laid fallow.

Or perhaps visions glowing cherry red,

Deep green with passion.

Home could have started

As your first breath realized

On a summer day.

It did.

The fact is I never have

Known home.

I’ve seen waves

And winds.

I’ve watched the fog.

I have seen tumble-weeds blowing

Across a thousand dawns,

And never seen home.

Not my home.

That would be the fact.

I do know the dream.

Fred
The Boatman
So Simple Things
Tattoos
A Bear, A Fawn, An Otter
Fat Men and Boats
Flowers
Letters
Christopher
A Funny Thing
Home
The Edge of the Moon
The Rod and the Ripple
Darlin’
He did Write
Aye Lass
Down from the Mountains
Silent Thought
Each Note
He Wished He Knew
But He Grew
Road Stories
Darling Daughter (continued)
Old Dogs New tricks
Dramatic Lives
Christopher Columbus, and Julius
Dawn Stretches
Sean and Megan
Dearest Beauty
Words
Dragons, Dancing
The Wild and Wooly Dog
About Dragons
Big Dog Gone Running
Autumn Waits
Sunday Afternoon
You Can Write Words
Lions in the Dawn
If I Listened to the Moon
Gifts and Purposes
First Kiss
They Were
Carp
Hipness
Old Pictures
To Stand Free
Candles and Flames
Dear Mom
The Moon is Floating
Artists can run Hot