The house is gone.
\nMy mother is gone.
\nThe town changes every time
\nI come back.
\nBut as towns go in the American prairie,
\nit keeps its face.
\nI don\u2019t lose my way.
\nEvery dream is huge,
\nbut you can only live
\na part of a dream at a time.
\nIt will remain long enough
\nuntil I am gone.
\nA sea once covered this land.
\nA sea may come back.<\/p>\n
The railroad in front of the emptiness
\nwhere my mother lived, is there,
\nand maybe, like a road,
\nthat should have an end, the
\nsea will cover the ties,
\ndrop silt on their iron,
\nand the death of my mother
\nwill be complete.
\nOnly the howling will remain.
\nThe crying out in the night
\nfor her lost son killed in a war.
\nThat ghost haunted my sleep.
\nThe siren of disaster
\nthat announced his end
\nfilled my soul with a dead sorrow.<\/p>\n
Every year
\nI set aside a moment
\nto toast his sacrifice,
\nhis courage.
\nThe wound to our hearts
\nnever healed.
\nIt just disappeared
\nas my family died one by one.
\nI am left,
\namong the last,
\nand treasure his life
\nhowever short it was.<\/p>\n
I toast her,
\nand honor her cloak of anguish.
\nIt is raining outside,
\nappropriate remembering her.
\nI toast the rain,
\nthe tears she shed,
\nand the others who vanished.
\nShe still screams.
\nI hear her sometimes
\nfrightened from my sleep.
\nMy brother is silent.
\nPerhaps
\nthey have something now
\nI don\u2019t have,
\nseeing the circle close
\non all our lives.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The house is gone. My mother is gone. The town changes every time I come back. But as towns go in the American prairie, it…<\/p>\n