Homesick for Elsewhere



In my own neighborhood
there are endless beds of roses;
friendly dogs smile,
cats polish my calves with soft grey flanks,
children play with ribbons.

Blackberry brambles sweep new branches
out to the clean new roads.
Neighbors chat over fences.
The fleeting butterfly scent of sun-steeped grass
beckons me to pause;

I hold up my face to the birdsong
and see only this:
the dragonflies,
the merry dandelions,
and petals like icing on the sidewalk.

Lisa Davidson


(St. Lucia )

Real now,
I have pinned these whites up
in imagination
many times.

Rough nights
I would hold the brightness
of fresh washing rainbows
in my mind.

Warm sun
can be squeezed from wet clothes
strung between two mangoes
on a line.

I’ll heal:
After so much clenching
something’s breaking open
as I pin

clean clothes
to my island clothesline
looking out on mountains,

Lisa Davidson

2 comments on “Homesick for Elsewhere

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