Pieces of Moonbeams

II: lost home

sometimes, they said home is a person
to bring shade from the sunrays,
to be your shelter in rainy days.
the nostalgia is still kicking hard
when we watch stars on our yard,
and when we make food for our kitties.
you're not lost into this infinite vacuum,
you're not lost into the buildings & cities,
the rosemaries and sunflowers are still growing,
the wind rises and still keep going.

oh—the roofs that the lights
cannot penetrate are still here.
the lambs squealing
to craft vibrants fabrics are still here—
the hens painting your sunny-side up eggs are still here—
and darling, you don't lost your home
for there is no one to be,
for you to open the windows so we can see.

we can never return,
we can never seat back.
all homes are an illusion
from us inside my home,
seeing me outside the window
from the parallel doors which you can never knock—
the yearning for our home that's been locked.
what luck. to see me inside staring at the clock—
my nostalgia's in your soft pillows,
and it's never been back.
how come did you see me,
waiting for you
to hug my back?

lost home
March 14, 2023