"Circling Home"

A short poem, with audio; themes: war, nature, love, observation, connection

Slowly, I’m adding my poetry and older flash stories/essays to this blog. I genuinely hope you enjoy them. Most will be open to everyone and some to paid subscribers only (newer work, primarily). I will not send out emails as I add most work so as not to inundate you, but I will do so occasionally. Like today. :)

This poem was originally published in Poor Claudia. It was also read before a Che Malambo performance, which was a strange, wonderful, and intimidating opportunity for me.

Circling Home

© Jen Knox

Away from home, we converse with nature. We laugh at what seems a drunken raccoon in the dead of morning. Mosquitos clean their legs on our fly swatters as we gulp hot coffee from metal cups. Blinking ourselves awake, we realize the creature is sick.

Longing to go home, we balance freedoms in still-soft palms, swaddle guns like babies and carry them close to our chests as we march in the bone-splitting cold. Heading straight as the crow, we invite history to circle round.

Circling home, we wander with stories, sit with art. We carry theory on our backs and balance opinions on our heads like books, waiting for an accepting nod. We dance slowly, eager to find the suggested formation, the perfect shape, until we learn to break away.

Here, at home, we turn over memories as though they are tangible things, play them like instruments in our minds. Fingertips tapping keys, we create new meaning, reframe reality. It is here, with senses numbed or heightened; it is here, with nature and conflict and art; it is here, where we realize we’ve been all along.