Going Home

written after my Dad's funeral

Going Home

What am I to do
with this rambling novel,
epic of small details,
connected by sinuous threads
of memory-
Flashbacks poorly crafted
of empty places,
empty words,
empty people?

The plot just wanders
'til another chapter ends,
and I set the book aside
until I must open it again,

Even with a bookmark,
I cannot find my place.


First Place: Decayed Poetry Contest Sept. 2005