the places i've lived

our house
open windows face the glittering sea, letting the air move through the place.
sunbeams bounce off of the shiny wood floors, a light scent of nag champa drifts in from the garden.
it burns outside near the hammock,
big plants tower like green feathers.
a perfect place to read a book and sway on a lazy afternoon such as this.
behind the place stretches emerald cliffs and beyond that mountain peaks shrouded in a mantle of clouds.
a strain of reggae leaks out from the kitchen window, humming, laughter accompanied by the percussion of palm trees rattling softly.
the smell of homemade paella simmering on the stove,
roasted corn on the cob grilling,
beads of sweat drip down my forgotten margarita glass.
barefeet in the sweet grass,
dancing.
*********************
i pull up the stakes and bundle them together, wrapping the rawhide ties securely to the travois.
she nickers at me, turning a dark face with a white blaze.
it reminds me of the stars at night near winter camp.
the weather has turned, and so we move too.
only a small trail of us left,
brown faces in the sun,
dust hanging over the plain.
i look for miles to see nothing but an ocean of tall grass and a small trail as we move south.
my home is the world,
owning nothing,
owing nothing but gratitude.
i use everything, and when i die i will give it back.
flying into the sky as my tears become rain, my body earth, my laughter wind.