Poetry: For as Long as I Remain & This Place Isn’t Mine by Linda Crate in FOTM Issue 3

For as Long as I Remain

when i think of home

i imagine house

of my parents,

they live in a place with

an ageless face

whose beauty sighs in clouds

and blue skies and trees tall as

skyscrapers;

it is in the fields and forests i spent

a lot of time growing up—

the loner no one understood

unraveled herself in thick puffs of white clouds,

endless blue skies,

choruses of rambling creeks and babbling brooks,

in fields of orange wild lilies growing by the side

of the road,

in the wings of butterflies and crows;

there is peace to be found in the heart of this place

so i focus on those memories when i can

because not every memory is potatoes and gravy

some are heavy stones i try to chisel away—

but in nature i found pieces of me

that music and books couldn’t give,

and a peace that will cleanse me for as

long as i remain.

This Place Isn’t Mine

i miss living in the town i grew up in, home cooked meals and dusty dirt roads; a village

of trees and stalks of corn taller than me—there were always adventures to be had in the

woods, always secrets the wind would tell me; i would always uncover some new

mythology of my name and bones—i miss being able to wake up to a sunrise and see a

sunset clearly, where the hustle of city life wasn’t so predominant; a place where i didn’t

feel threatened simply by existing—i miss the moments spent in tranquil nature, listening

to crowsong and dancing beneath the moon; visits to the beach or standing in the creek,

hearing the psalms of trees—i don’t like this place of endless sidewalks, buildings, and

the omnipresent arrival and departure of vehicles; i like the music of the country better:

the mooing cows, the cawing crow, the songbirds, the barking dogs, and singing crickets;

everything is better than the constant beeping and whirring of people focused on being

somewhere other than where they are—i just want to wrap myself up until i can be

husked and boiled away from this place and come out shimmering, new, beautiful, and

reformed.

Linda M. Crate’s poetry, short stories, articles, and reviews have been published in a myriad of magazines both online and in print. She has six published chapbooks A Mermaid Crashing Into Dawn (Fowlpox Press – June 2013), Less Than A Man (The Camel Saloon – January 2014), If Tomorrow Never Comes (Scars Publications, August 2016), My Wings Were Made to Fly (Flutter Press, September 2017), splintered with terror (Scars Publications, January 2018), more than bone music (Clare Songbirds Publishing, March 2019), and one micro-chapbook Heaven Instead (Origami Poems Project, May 2018). She is also the author of the novel Phoenix Tears (Czykmate Productions, June 2018).

Follow Linda on twitter @thysilverdoe

By davidlonan1

David writes poetry, short stories, and writings that'll make you think or laugh, provoking you to examine images in your mind. To submit poetry, photography, art, please send to feversofthemind@gmail.com. Twitter: @davidLOnan1 + @feversof Facebook: DavidLONan1

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