You Can'T Go Home Again If You'Ve Never Left Poem by Katrina Harms

She has feathered her nest
with things found and forgotten
unwanted scraps and trappings of every kind
From garage sale to garbage dump,
the dregs and rinds left behind
will make a sturdy domicile.
And if I don't like it, that's too bad, she said-
there are hostas to transplant
mulching and mowing, there is sod and weeds
There is creeping charlie in the cucumber beds.
I could transplant myself
but I don't.
Not now, despite the dust and cans and filth
and doilies and the never enough-
I am to have left her, but my shadow
darkens every doorway, and her sallow callous way
now that her nest is empty
But her aimless birdling stays.