Striated sky of orange, pink, and gold,
Scorching sun sinking in westward window.
As another day closes, I wonder,
Are these our last in this place?
Friendly interview chatter this morning
Belly laughs from the East coast invading my living room.
Is this the job to take us away?
From house, from home,
From friends, from the familiar?
Fear wraps its fingers around my heart.
I stand immobile at the thought of moving.
The sun descends and darkness deepens.
I despair to begin again.
Moonshine reminds me of the silver opportunities
More space, better schools, a quieted conscience.
The sun will rise and we shall see.
Author’s Note: It has been a long time since I’ve written a poem. It is likely not yet in final form. Constructive feedback is welcomed and appreciated. Thanks.