I’m carried —
we’re carried,
nine of us,
one by one —
in a nurturing arm
13 and half paces
from front door
to a wrap-around porch
from four weeks, three days
and a piece of remnant carpet
and the 2×6 walls of fir
the box of our birth
to a confined space
of black grated steel
an open space
wide to a vastness
it is home
suddenly familiar
full of family
of my brothers
and sisters
a monochromatic
dog pile of kin
and it is new
an open door
my first sun
my first taste
of spring
the air, crisp,
carrying the first
whiffs of spring pollen
millions of smells
overwhelm
horses and llamas
my father, Johnny,
mother June,
a cow’s leg
thawing in the
melting muck
a dairy farm
working
my world
unfolding
for the first time
outdoors.

∞

Submitted as part of “National/Global Poetry Writing Month” (#NaPoWriMo #GloPoWriMo).
Today’s prompt:  Day Two: Write  a poem about a specific place — a particular house or store or school or office. Try to incorporate concrete details, like street names, distances (“three and a half blocks from the post office”), the types of trees or flowers, the color of the shirts on the people you remember there. Little details like this can really help the reader imagine not only the place, but its mood – and can take your poem to weird and wild places..

30 Poems in 30 Days

All text and photography © Dale Schierbeck

…. more of my original Poetry on EatsWritesShoots here.