For years I’ve walked an in between,
living everywhere and nowhere.
I’ve colored in enough half-lives
to fill three full frames or more
and yet it seems empty;
carrying this full suitcase as I so often do
through yet another crowded station.
Each journey comes
and yet another hearth embraces me
but I always return
to a place of space and silence.
My branches reach wide
and hang heavy with rich flowers and fruit
but I miss the taproot
and a time when I belonged.