what makes a home

too long ago to remember exactly
I slept one night beneath the stars
on the property of a man whose name I forget
in a country to which I may never return

and when I slept that night I slept alongside
many who are strangers to me now but family then
not adults yet far past childhood
having traveled so far without even speaking the language

braced against each other there in the cold and the dark
with nothing to fear we had his food in our belly and the earth below
and the man’s watch making the vast so gentle and easy
like this kind of thing was guaranteed

and when I awoke there was dew on my nose
and the sun was new as everything

©2023 Niall Cunningham