4 July, 2014

You are whole here, in New York. 
We see it in your face. 
The note lay in an unassuming white envelope, among the piles of credit card offers and mail addressed "to resident". They're gone, now, but it's too soon to understand what that means.
Days pass in quiet exhaustion, as I begin to reinsert myself into the treaded paths that are mine. I walked along the river and saw the city covered in a heavy, brown haze. It looked almost like the end of summer. And there, at the end of the pier where it seems the city and the sea lie both at your fingertips, I realized.
I do not fear fall.
I do not fear rootlessness or my own
impoverished future.
I do not fear anything.
Because I am here.

Welcome home.