From a world of coal dust and dirt,
\nI wandered through a garden
\novergrown with weeds.
\nI belonged to a house
\nwithout white curtains.
\nOne lives where they live.
\nI long to return to a house
\nwith windows bright as sun,
\nand water, which never was.
\nI lived at the world\u2019s edge,
\nwhere iron scraped on iron.
\nWhere trains passed like odysseys.
\nBut from where to where?
\nShadows that never explained themselves,
\nand left sentences without their words.
\nI would sing to myself then,
\nto fill the silence
\nthe trains left behind.
\nTime was endless.
\nI talked to imaginary people,
\nmuch as those I talk to now
\nwho\u2019ve left.
\nAs for coal dust and dirt,
\nwe are never quite
\nwhere we come from,
\nor belong to where we are.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
From a world of coal dust and dirt, I wandered through a garden overgrown with weeds. I belonged to a house without white curtains. One…<\/p>\n