what makes a home
too long ago to remember exactlyI 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
against each other in the cold and dark
with nothing to fear his food
in our belly and the earth below
and his watch making the vast night
so gentle and so easy
like that kind of thing was guaranteed
and when I awoke
there was dew on my nose
and the sun was as new
as everything