It was strangely magnetic,
a homeland
a rite of passage
a convergence
of a time
that was so insignificant
while the timing
was anything but.
There were the firsts
and the never-agains.
I was insecurely confident,
learning self
and God
and other people’s lies.
It was a period
of acute change,
regressing some
becoming more.
I had nothing,
yet I was keenly
thankful.
I could enjoy the time
and place
and lack of distance.
Then the tides came in
as the moon sunk
from the sky.
I awoke
from the real-life dream,
and it was gone.