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.