When Nothing is Everywhere

I have a home. Well, a place to live
I should say. I don’t really wish to give
the name home to where I work or rest
when I’m well aware that I don’t belong.
Not here, not there or anywhere

But that’s fine.
I don’t have to worry
about which little patch of land is mine
and, really, I don’t feel I’m left without.
I mean, why would I?

[written January 2013]

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