Leaving Again

Born in the South,
Where the fatback is cheap
And iron skillets clang morning, noon, and night.
Born with passion
For people
Freedom, energy,
My first life

But I left everything,
Away to bluegrass fields and sun showers
Siblings, brothers, and family,
My second life, starting over, then leaving,
again.

Leaving to tree-lined streets and geraniums
Blooming ‘round a manicured lawn,
My third life, but still,
Time goes on, leaving,
again.

To cactus, sands, and summer droughts,
Monsoons, not snow, home, maybe,
My fourth life,
But the clock is ticking, and I am leaving,
again.

With book under one arm,
I march, I obey, stoic, unchanging
Trying, and failing,
to satisfy everyone.
And still, I am leaving,
again.

I dream, I am drowning,
touching,
smelling,
Screaming for help,
hearing,
But no one hears me,
seeing,
Believing in disbelief
Nightmare, stolen from the place where dark things roam,
delivered, to me, only to leave again,
in my true life, always,
I am leaving,
again.