“There’s No Place Like Home” – Clicked My Stilettos Against The Sidewalk.

from maybe to almost


So it’s that time of year again and once again I have moved interstate (actually this was over a month ago but I’ve been shockingly busy)… Thus is the life of the perpetual nomad.

I place the blame (or perhaps the gratitude) for my gypsy soul firmly at the feet of my father, if much of ones nature is hereditary then he and I make the nature vs nurture argument utterly irrelevant. When people ask me about my childhood home my first response is “Which one?”.

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Once when I was younger
Absorbed in the abstract
I sank my feet in the sand
And caught a cloud
I read French philosophers
And ate a sandwich
While waves carried people
And foam pillows
A boy sold cotton candy
While I searched for Beauty
A ball rolled past my towel
Beauty chased it
She wanted to play so I stood up
I thought about sunspots
And love
Two girls threw the ball
And Beauty chased it
But they walked away so
I waited
A boy next to me slept
While I dreamed
I looked in a mirror
And tied my hair in a braid
A cool summer breeze
Preceded the rain
I thought about love some more
While I packed my belongings
Rain clouds covered the sun
And Beauty and I went home

©Cate Derham