the idolization of nomads
from a potted plant, freshly
watered. peeking through the
blinds at the adventures
That Could Be.
a scent carries around
my leaves. a home I once
visited. i feel comforted.
musk, dust, and its loneliness
sneaks through when i’ve
decided to forget. no invitation
back. my home is here in the silence.
the past awaits me. i prepare for
it as the future pokes me, telling
me what it’s like to feel empowered.
i yawn and the scent of the
unwelcoming home fades. my
leaves shudder. i see tiny backpacks
spin to reveal giggling vagabonds.
they seek adventure.
i seek solace.