Bed of leaves underfoot
Soggy, some still crunch
Brick and mortar buildings surround me,
Rising up like ghosts of the past
Ancient and historic
Reminiscent of a time when men shed blood on these streets to be free
Not so long ago, after all.
Towers in the distance toll
The sun sets
Wind whips across my face, pushing me back
I, warm-blooded, shiver.
Who am I, and where am I going?
Who am I; where do I belong?
All I know is from whence I am coming
I wish I could decide where is home.
But, I suspect
There is no answer
Because, you see, this earth is not home
So for now, I will content myself
Here in the leaves and the wind and the chill
Walking down Massachusetts Street
Content in Cambridge
For now, alone.