no sign of hometown no on the highway necklace or even in the green dumpster. a flashlight to the forward & nothing but deep & deep. whistling just to have the distance whistle back. i left it right here at this exit & hometown grinned at me & waved. i just wanted to plant an earbud or an eraser. i can't remember which. we could have easily wandered to the park's green face. we could have tied the street signs in knots. somewhere a movie is eating through fence & farmland. reading the backs of my hands. veins like telephone lines. operators in the graves still reaching to connect a call. hometown was lush this time of year. hairnets riddled with fireflies. hometown swallowed deeply & never slept. was barefoot & saved. took slow breaths. calmed even the crows. mountains doing new graces. the hills rolling without where. sleeping in the trunk. a tire rolling in our hearts through what we used to know as staircase. sitting on a stoopless stoop. the house a new nowhere. hometown dried. hometown in the reeds. hometown hidden like a baby basket or a belt buckle.