a poem: spring

My spring started December 22
On a plane
Bound for home
Nowhere else to go
But home
Home to home’s original place
Back to where I might find
The space to call me mine
Back to the space where I could find
A beginning to heal
To find what was real
To find what was mine
What was me
What was home
That’s spring for me
The beginning of me
The end of lying to me
Am I putting out leaves?

-a.e

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