the home place<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
some folks say
\nit’s where
\nwhen you have to go there,
\nthey have to take you.<\/p>\n
So that’s not wrong
\nso far as it goes
\nbut it’s a bit unkind, maybe —
\nunprodigal.<\/p>\n
I say
\nit’s where
\nwhen you want to go there
\nso badly you’ll give up your easy
\nanonymous wallow,
\npick up responsibility again
\nput it on like a clean shirt,
\naccept the recognition
\nof your place in the sweet slow
\nmechanics of family —<\/p>\n
it’s where
\nwhen you want to go there
\nso much you’ll give up
\nlifting nothing,
\nto regain the quiet beating weight
\nthat’s everything —<\/p>\n
they’ll bear you joyously
\nover the familiar threshold,
\nand only say
\nwe’re glad.<\/p>\n
We’re glad you’re here at last.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Leigh Clifton Goodwin<\/a> has put in time as a bartender, a maid, a shipwreck victim and a very reluctant banker.\u00a0 She has had poems published in Crab Creek Review<\/em>, Drash: Northwest Mosaic<\/em>, and A Sense of Place: The Washington State Geospatial Poetry Anthology.<\/em> <\/a>In early 2011, Leigh accidentally began writing a poem-journal of the cycle of a Seattle year, and has been observing developments with interest.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" the home place some folks say it’s where when you have to go there, they have to take you. So that’s not wrong so far as it goes but it’s a bit unkind, maybe — unprodigal. I say it’s … Continue reading