Homing
Strange
how the conversation ended.
Some things perhaps
are better left unsaid
even for friends
whose friendship gives the lie
to most taboos.
The wedge between us
was an unhitched stone boat
empty of cargo whether
straw or rock
empty and silent in the field
nowhere to go.
I know our hearts aren’t
in the silence or the stone.
Our hearts are birds that know
each other’s nests.
Where one resides
the other wants to follow.
Even on those days
when distance blurs the way
and we feel stranded in the field
a part of me will fly to you
and you to me
knowing unerringly the way
back home.
~ Joan Baragar
Joan writes: “I published a poem in a national magazine when I was seventeen, but have been writing prose and poetry for most of my life and publishing some of it. My dream is never to lose my sense of wonder – even now, when the Winnipeg snow appears to have lost its appeal except to prairie people such as myself.”
this speaks loudly and softly. ??