CHASING HOME
If your borders could talk,
they would tell you the meaning
of chasing home:
distance is a figurine of faded
fingers tracing home in maps;
assurance is the breath of bombs
spread to the four winds;
holding hands is finding
the vanity of chasing home
& silence is how you learn to
let go of the bullets’ holes at home.
Finding a pillow is finding
a home in solitude. & finding
a home in solitude is finding
how graves bury memory in
the pillow of an empty city.
—from Rattle #65, Fall 2019
Tribute to African Poets
__________
Ifeoluwa Ayandele: “After reading Louise Glück’s The Wild Iris, something within me said, ‘There is a story in you, if you can dig deep into your memory.’ That was 2017, and I began to dig into my memory of growing up in rural southwest Nigeria, where grief was a continual part of home and trying to find an alternative becomes a constant desire.” (web)
