Homesick Poem by Andrew Kennedy
Homesick
In a long thin arc of loneliness,
where nothing collides I wait.
Face flushed and stomach in ropes,
seconds become hours and minutes to days.
Rings cut the steep silence,
where vertigo bells sound.
With ears forced open,
this cradle rocks me.
I wish to speak through a thread,
grip your voice with tongues.
Twist and turn,
as a laugh of two becomes one.
Don't hang up.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/28/2026 2:36:39 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
Wow. Just that. You've captured it so well. The poetic world must now bow deeply down to you..(smile)