“As long as you can find yourself, you’ll never starve.”
― Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games
Is there a place where roots in me can grow
deep enough to feel I’ve found home.
I’ve traveled so many years, hours, and miles
writing, erasing, remapping wild paths of self-revelation,
still much of me is unsettled, unexplored.
Walking beneath a blue journal sky I write poetry
with a crow feather pen of the wind’s voice in my hair,
the sigh of a leaf as it is released from an oak limb.
Perhaps home is me, the wisdom of a dandelion
that changes from blossom to moon, doesn’t
fret in the journey, just trusts it can grow wherever it lands.
©Susie Clevenger 2023
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