i was in a lil cafe
i heard you never called this place home
it looked like a poem to me
i stayed
and i wondered in between sips of chai
what little remnants you left behind for me
the park with the swings?
i don’t remember if you pushed me on one
but im told we used to go together
when the front seats were for parents
and my cousin i see every few years
speaks of you in a tongue I don’t quite understand
I sip my chai
and i want it to burn
i can speak I promise
And my little sis says I go somewhere else
through a window i see you as a young man
you look like a friend
most things are softer and lighter
we talk about your cows
i feel that pull to land I’ve never known
something I never want to own
its elements have simply been written on my soul
And i hear again how mom wanted us to stay
im here sipping my chai and time
while you wanted to take us home
She said over there wouldn’t of been a life
are you happy?
because surely your life belongs over there…
if you could read my poetry would it sound like the streams you like to watch?
would it remind you
we were once more than places
you’re not in a lil cafe in Milton
and I’m not among the cows on a farm
but if we were
would you be the poet and i the farmer ?