the midwest.

i stare out the window counting field after field of mustard weed.
we drove and saw the earth turn over and over on itself.
after fourteen hours we stopped; still looking for a home, we stopped to rest.

what is it about the midwest that leaves me feeling so empty?
the space is too -- looking out, i feel lost.
for the first time in a year, i long.

this is nothing like a crowded city.

what do i use to orient myself?
words, people, time, place.
i am still looking for a home.