I Dreamed of Home…
dirt road of rutted red clay leading past overgrown
fields, tobacco barn, beyond trees posted, “No Trespassing.”
My dream of home so real: red brick, white columns, wide porch
we sat on in profligate thunderstorms, sky dark, emptying,
the only light orange glow from Mom’s Marlboro.
In my dream, night me roams sparse rooms, lapping
circle layout, walking, no, flowing from one part
to the next, one fleet-footed step ahead of whatever’s in pursuit.
I wind up in the basement, pilgrimage of my
subconscious among overstuffed boxes, old appliances,
forgotten toys, Mom’s stamp collection, my banana seat bike,
vast unfinished space, like me.
Then a new house: a friend’s,
low-slung, adobe, stucco – cool rooms, quiet spaces –
I told them, “It’s changed! This isn’t your house.”
No response, just a smile, I might like
this Southwestern style home if I can let go of the other –
hush anxiety, accept a different version of a for-now bodily home,
while night me travels, free of the corporeal:
lighter than one could ever feel in a body,
expanding, rising up – out into the atmosphere …
beyond, transcendent, away.
Copyright 2024 by Kathy Cable Smaltz
Kathy Cable Smaltz’s work has been published in numerous journals, and she has one collection of poetry, Pieces. From 2016-2018 she served as Prince William County’s Poet Laureate and has been an educator for 29 years. A wife and mother of four, she and her family reside in Nokesville, VA.
30 for 30 is sponsored by Potomac Review
You have a way with words.