Hometown home town,
The town where I was born?
Home town or hometown,
The town where I live now.
Hometown,
The town I just moved from?
Home town,
The town I’m moving to?
Hometown.
The home of records town.
Same town Hometown
Where grandma’s buried now.
Where are you from?
What’s your Hometown?
A query often met
With a deep, deep breath, and
An eager, eager smile
From a child of traveling parents
Gradually inserting self.
How many ships crossings,
How many new houses,
How many friend left,
And often forgotten.
The regret of the lost
Of a town to call home,
Made up by the memories
Of saintly old bones,
Cathedrals and churches,
And a castle or two.
When asked the opening question
To start the ball rolling,
A boulder heads down
An avalanche of lived spaces,
A bunch of
I’ve-live-there-too’s,
To chats of locations,
A roll of eyes,
Where haven’t you lived?
Africa, I think
Wait, maybe…
While there’s
Nowhere to have come from
And while there’s
Nowhere to return to,
There’s not something to miss
If never, ever you
Have ever, never had
A hometown
To go back to,
Or a home town,
To come back
From.