Where is Here & Not Here somehow always There. . . Home is often There any Where I am not I am restless & yet my Sun tells me to stay put to Nest. I chose this place this house because of a dove perched on a chair sitting on top of a chair and crate later someone told me doves return to the same spot every year to mate to fertilize to nest & here I was a new tenant the old tenant removed this home these doves chose where is Home for them now Here in the rafters sizing up the safety of the area of rebuilding in this place where their Home has been removed.
I have been living in panic since the return of the doves trying to recreate their old home but every thrift store every garage sale every place I go to find the makings of a new Home deny me the old chairs the crates. The clerks and homeowners look at me with deep concern when I tell them what I’m doing & I understand their looks they have never been uprooted they have never lived with a sense of Home Less Ness.
We moved into a home when I was 5 & stayed until I was 23 how did I become this Lover of Unrootedness? A decade plus later my mother told me that was our 4th home in 5 years. I was born in one place moved to another in a year then another then the last. Moving is in my spirit but not my DNA. Perhaps this is what drew me to this place. I refuse to call it Home.
For a couple of days I’ve noticed a sparrow couple carrying twigs. When I returned from work today I finally realized the sparrows are building a nest in the mailbox. Sparrow. I let this name pass my lips a few years ago. “I’m going to name a child Sparrow,” I told my mother & told my lover & told my friends. Nesting doves to greet me Sparrows to carry me. Where. The sparrows won’t be successful. The doves uprooted. On the front porch competing robin’s nest. Home is a constant negotiation a struggle.
These Ruth Ellen Kocher poems say it all.
Happy NPM Day 3 ~