Home Alone
Have you ever just had a big house to yourself in the mountains? This story captures just what that is like.
There’s a comfort
in sitting alone
in your own living room
in your own house
with your own body
serving as your voice,
a beating drum,
awakened by the Earth.
It’s a comfort
that doesn’t quite compare
with that of other,
more external kinds
that require circumstances
to make them such,
without being on their own
Here, the silence surrounds you
in a heavy blanket,
pulling you back to the ground,
reminding you
that your heart beats slowly,
and your breath is even,
and your lungs are full,
the night is always steady,
and an open balcony
invites the dark, cool air
to guide sweet dreams,
your body may be outstretched
on the crisp sheets,
there is no other body
to monopolize it,
only you,
and the great horned cooing at night,
sometimes, you might even
hear the coyotes telling you,
they prefer being alone, too,
with the voices of the night
lulling your body
back in your bones
until light streams in
the red tails call out,
sheer screeching in the morning,
as you begin a new day
with yourself once more,
leaving yesterday, and
greeting today,
ensuring tomorrow never knows
what you are wanting it to be,
keeping your mind at peace,
you are set free.
