In the mystery
of where we come to land,
the imagined safety of the past
clings to our ankles.
But it’s the same moon wherever we go.
We find peace
in the small details of this new life.
The crumpled lines of an old corduroy shirt
warm the inside of an elbow.
Light shoots across the bruised wood table -
it spills onto your lap like bright honey.
Each moment in this foreign space
invites us to feel the grace of home.