Lately, it rains a lot more than normal

One layover away from home, and
ten days ends up being too short.
Too short to sustain embraces that should have lasted
longer than heat stroking fingers coming undone;
too short to escape sleepy jitters of the night;
too short to digest fibers of angled relations jetting back up
in the harbor of our hardening hearts; and
too short to lie to myself, in mummers convincing me to stay with
afternoon flogged with green and swollen air. I wanted
friends to be an eyelash in the blink of our
universe and hoped microbrews would, one at time, bend
finite notions back to a rooted place in these stomping grounds.
But now I have text messages coming in,
and I'm not even back yet;
I have unstable emotions about where I should be,
roots of maples yanking me back with each sway of the swing.
It's the politics of longing in the steady cradle of waiting and
little babies we collectively birthed years ago are now growing up
and although we're worlds apart,
It all gives me something to look forward to.

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