how long will it take
to feel like mine

when the kids get their beds
when my art’s on the wall
is it a matter of time
or space
will it be when I unpack
or working again

is it losing control
or never having it

everything new
will become old

even these feelings


I’d love to tell you that everything
was a piece of cake

the packing
the loading
the drive
the move

but it wasn’t

there was stress
but we made it

it’s hard to explain the emotions
felt behind the wheel
as I watched the trailer in front of me
hold my stuff

my things
my life
everything I had
in a trailer

it was weird

thinking every thing would melt away
when we got here
but it didn’t

unpacking things
only to realize
my things didn’t have “a place”

then it hit me

I left my home
to be a visitor
nothing “fitting in”
not even me

not yet

I’m not sure how much of my bath
was water
and how much
were tears

learning to live
a different way

I wonder what poetry
was inside Abraham