I'm joining Beverly A Baird & Linda Schueler again in a year long poetry practice. On the first Friday of each month we, and anyone else who joins, writes a poem and shares it. This year the focus is going to be on using poems to inspire us. This month we are writing about “Where We Belong” based on this poem.
A while ago I purchased Finger Exercises for Poets by Dorianne Laux. The first chapter asks us to really look at a thing: to carry it around with you in your pocket and pay close attention to it. This past month, I have carried the word 'belonging' around with me like this. I've savoured the feel, sound, and taste of it in my mouth and memories.
Then last week, Tim Minchin, an Australian singer songwriter released Time Machine, his first album in ages. Not Perfect, a profound song about belonging, is on it.
Growing up, I never felt like I belonged. Living in a small town with a father who used a wheelchair and stayed home, while my mother went out to work, played a huge part in this. We were different.
Here's my poem. I've stolen those end lines from Tim.
where i belong
i belong
in my home town:
it wasn’t always like this
half a century or so ago
when i left
it was:
too small
too limited
too homophobic
too misogynist
too racist
too redneck
in these intervening years
i’ve changed
it’s changed
i might be flawed,
it might be flawed,
the thing is,
this landscape,
it's imprinted on my heart:
ghosts of my ancestors
haunt these streets and hills
weaving me into the tapestry
of this place and this community
half a century later
i've finally figured it out:
this town,
it's not perfect,
but it's mine