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Interloper |
I am an invasive species. A weed.
I do not belong here.
But being here, I belong nowhere else.
I belong nowhere.
I am not born of the Earth, but of many earths.
The desert, the forest, the plains. Swamps. Caves. The stars.
I am an interloper,
Dropping my foreign shade on the soil,
Standing under a sky that is not mine.
I carry my gods and my ancestors on my back.
I speak a tongue sewn together from a thousand stolen tongues,
And I sing songs I have found by the side of the road.
One of them is yours.
My favorite.
copyright 2015
David
Scriven |
