THE PLACE I CALLED HOME (A POEM)

Abstract

The act of thinking about life provokes
memories too arduous to peg down
I have never known a man who thought
home was a prison, a place out of place
I have heard it said by fanatic housekeepers,
who spend their time dusting other people’s lives
What a noise for something,
a place one feels safe or trapped
I do not know if it is true;
I’m cunningly conjecturing.