Knoxville, TN – Home

Again the road removes my tongue
And it feels like it needs to be pulled
Like a Briggs and Stratton lawnmower engine
To find the phrases that slide so easily elsewhere

This trip has been like no other
Strange calms in turbulent moments
Small glittering gems on postage stamp stages
Standing on fences listening to whispers
In touch with my surroundings in a detached way

Not too busy  to write
Just asked not to think…easy!

And the words stop.

The return home, the vistas and visions
The  welcoming smells and the reality of it all
A trusting mouth, eyes  warm and deep
As parts of the Indian Ocean
New ditches, new hills, personal topography
Be still my beating everything
You must return to the blues internment camp
To finish your well paid sentence
And then perhaps you can come home again
And finish this one as well.