a familiar path
by Anne Treat

Walk down my street and see what pulls you in.
Where the shape of my vision stops, all things too familiar,
Start your own.
I see a confused sky. Not blue, not yet pink. Somewhere below, it curls to an end,
Forfeiting shapes.
Cars and proud picket fences trail behind and I wonder,
What sort of sky gives up this easily?

Sidewalks and driveways are paths to private minds, All leading home.
The house next door is new, but it is nothing,
Not the crushed green grass or cast off soda cans
That weren't here yesterday.

Walk down my street and hear a call to attention. All sounds that fade with familiarity,
Let them capture you.
There's a morning train that rolls through, clicking its heels.
It is a hum thicker than geography,
But I can't hear it anymore.
Let it be what it wants, a whoop of arrival,
An occasion.
Let it move like water wants to rush across flat land, Draining into ears.
Birds chirp conversations, then swoop through the sky
To let us know where their street begins.
Theirs has no end.

Walk down my street and feel to fullness.
Find what holds you.
Feel beyond the body's capacity to enclose.
Then, when it all spills out of you,
When it becomes too much,
Stay there.

I never learned how to contain the sky or the Rhythm of an atmosphere.
They never meant to be held.
Breeze offers particles of morning like capsules for the heart. Take that in too and when you do,
know you are home.

Anne Treat writes, "As a student at Fairhaven College , I explore ideas of multiculturalism through non-fiction writing. I am particularly interested in the influence of food on history and culture, and its consequent contributions to cultural traditions."