Eden Recalled

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EDEN RECALLED


I know this place—know well 

its slopes and dips and dimples

where the dust collects, and yes,

I plan to stick around a while yet. 

If home is where you spend 

your time then this is mine, 

though I had thought a place

was only home if you could navigate


it half awake. Where am I then,  

and what exactly am I feeling

for with bruises on my shins?

It's surely that which hides itself in

distant recollection, frail as infant

memories, like pulling in at night 

to hear my father whisper, Wake

up, son, we're home, the car key's click.

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