Here, at the mouth of Dog Hollow
Beneath the Box Elders
In my chair on the porch,

Here, in the cool dry air
Of the Great Basin
In the foothills of the Rockies,

Here, where only crickets
Are the dominant sound
In the silence of the night,

Here, where northern stars
Light the darkness
To the farthest edge of the horizon,

Here, rooted five generations,
Twenty-three years of marriage,
And three children deep;

Here, I smell the moist, heavy
Musk along the shore of the Rhine,
See the cellars on its brink,

Here, I sense the dusky streets,
Hear Dutch in a hungry ear,
Feel cobblestone under foot,

Here, I know the Dom tower,
Its sounding bells rising high
Above the murmur of the city,

Here, I crave the urban ways,
Crowded streets, cafe terraces,
The security in the annonymity;

Here, where I am not,
There would my heart be,
At Home and with You.

09/03/2006

Author's Note: Nederland, Utrecht

Posted on 09/04/2006
Copyright © 2024 Leonard M Hawkes