Homing In

I fly, silver wings above clouds,
tracking yesterday through winds
tuned to stellar frequency—

Learning to Be Silent

Where I came from I don’t know. Sometimes I existed in the present, at other times I seemed untethered from my conscious mind. I recall a black kerosene stove sitting in a moat of light at the rear of the one room where our family of five lived. The two older children helped with chores. Because I was the youngest…