I'm a poet. I didn't know it....

...until today that is!

I'm am now an officially published poet! You can go read the lovely thing, titled "Orbit" here.

(Edit: Unfortunately, the website where this poem was published no longer exists. So I'll post it here.)

This is my (so far) one and only completed poem. Maybe I'll write more. Now that I've started - why not?

One of my acquaintances from the Science Fiction Poetry Association, Chris Vera, is someone whose sentiments closely match mine. We see each other's updates on FaceBook. Chris saw my post about my mother selling the house she's lived in for 40 years. The house that my brother and I grew up in. He said, "You should write a poem about that" (or some such). I said, "I don't write poetry". He said, "Try!". So I did. Chris has been very encouraging in the process and helpful in his guidance, but not intrusive. I asked a few other people to read it and give their critique, which was also a good thing.

I hope you like it.

Home is that place that has gravitational pull.
Small and running in circles
From Living Room through Dining Room
To Kitchen and on again the orbit began.
There are lumps to prove the bumpy initiation.
The house, my Home, was a constant -
The point from which my outward spiral originated.
With lift-off came revolutions
around town and then country
even traversing the water
could not sever or break
the tether proving robust.
The pull of Home omnipresent
And requiring the occasional return
Of the prodigal daughter.
Too many turns to call any other place Home.
With Mother letting go of the house.
Where will Home be now?
There is a heaviness of loss
Jumbled with a lightness
Of being cut loose -
Is this new trajectory a sudden straight line?
Where will it lead?
Will a new focal point come into view?
Will its gravity be strong enough?
I find an axis to revolve around and
As I spiral in again –
What am I orbiting?
I settle into its gravitational pull
And revolve around
Myself, my own Home.

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