Exile
Having abandoned one, I claim the other.
Rain speckles the driveway.
Solitude pays its toll with unmet expectations,
thunder receding, clouds shriveling to dust.
The mockingbird chirrs its cricket tune
before flying to a higher perch.
What you call home I call diminishment.
What you surrender, I bundle and mail to strangers.
“Exile” first appeared here in May 2017.
My poems “Do Not Retain Me In An Urn,” “Pinot Noir” and “Hotel of my Future” are live at Salamander Ink Magazine, a Nigerian publication. Thank you, founder/editor Salam Wosu for taking these pieces.
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My poem “The Inside Twitch” is live at Exilé Sans Frontières, a new international publication. Thank you to editors Daniel Nemo and Pryscilla Hebel for taking this piece.
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Exile
Having abandoned one, I claim the other.
Rain speckles the driveway.
Solitude pays its toll with unmet expectations,
thunder receding, clouds shriveling to dust.
The mockingbird chirrs its cricket tune
before flying to a higher perch.
What you call home I call diminishment.
What you surrender, I bundle and mail to strangers.
“Exile” last appeared here in May 2017.
Exile
Having abandoned one, I claim the other.
Rain speckles the driveway.
Solitude pays its toll with unmet expectations,
thunder receding, clouds shriveling to dust.
The mockingbird chirrs its cricket tune
before flying to a higher perch.
What you call home I call diminishment.
What you surrender, I bundle and mail to strangers.
Exile
Having abandoned one, I claim the other.
Rain speckles the driveway.
Solitude pays its toll with unmet expectations,
thunder receding, clouds shriveling to dust.
The mockingbird chirrs its cricket tune
before flying to a higher perch.
What you call home I call diminishment.
What you surrender, I bundle and mail to strangers.
O at the Edges 