POETRY

From Home
by Chandra Bloodgood

On hushful nights the wind
whispers to me, through the
oak, birch, and cherry
trees of southern Minnesota.

She travels over the calm
stretched womb of the mid-west
to the thin bony fingers of the east

bringing the thick smells of
black earth, still water, and wild
roses in mid-summer.

Gently caressing, slowly
moving through the
still night into my still room
pausing at the foot of my bed
grazing my cheek

lingering for a moment,
then breathing
back into the empty
night in search of another
daughter so far away from home.

 

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