I left a piece of my heart
in Oklahoma,
in a little town close to the Kansas boarder,
in America’s Hometown.
Blackwell calls to me
across fields of waving wheat,
across the Rockies snow capped peaks,
begs me to come home,
to return to the place of my birth,
and confront the ghosts of my childhood.
My grandparents’ graves call to me,
ask me to make one last visit
before I pass through death’s curtain
and we meet again in paradise
under the Tree of Life.
Line count:15 Form: Free verse
Written for February 2010 contest
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