Moving by Ingi House
In the galleries of cities,
hydrogen is replaced with halogen,
I catch myself searching
for what I have walked away from.
Looking for pieces of flat land,
the shocking loneliness of the plains
echoing my own isolation
from the very dirt that gave rise to my form.
All I find are steel beams
where waving wheat should form
canopies of golden skies.
Ingi House is an archivist and has written on archival topics. She has published poetry in RMB Journal, Dual Coast and NOUS. Originally from the Midwest, she is trying out both coasts to see which one is best. She loves words and hope they love her back. Contact her on Twitter @IngiHouse.