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Friday, October 21, 2016


Wind swept to pollinate this exotic shore,

in which I am the exotic,

where concrete and jungle fight for dominance.

The gecko’s staccato squeaking,

a lonely call for the momentary chill of rain,

breaks through night’s heat.

I long to join his call, praying for the deluge,

a monsoon to cleanse this ache for home.

For when I close my eyes,

I can still feel the Savannah twilight heavy on my shoulders,

can still smell sea salted marshes,

slow Southern days ingrained in my bones,

echoes of the cricket’s chirp drowning out the tropical murmurs.

But both are part of me now, edges indistinguishable.

Can you taste it? Comfort and spice that pulse steady within.

Home, you ask, as I examine these rootless feet.


  1. I really love how you ties this into a nostalgia for a place you've left. I think we need those roots, and I think we can take root.

  2. No matter where our feet take us, we retain those special thoughts of home. Beautiful words!

  3. Powerful evocation of nostalgia here, Tracey. Strong writing with strong finish..

  4. I resonate with this poem very strongly, having only just returned home to the sea after two decades of missing it in every fibre of my being. I especially love your closing line. This is very beautiful writing. So nice to read you!

  5. Love the great sensory imagery in this poem.

  6. I love the imagery in this, and also can relate to the rootlessness you that feeling of having multiple (sometimes random, opposing) things become such a vital part of you until their edges are indistinguishable (love the way you described that!). My feet are rootless, too.

  7. I love the imagery in this poem.Lovely.

  8. love that yearning for home expressed in beautiful imagery...

  9. Not my country ... and yet, I seem to feel that homesickness with you! (Though mine is for somewhere very different.) I think we never quite lose it, no matter how far we choose to travel.

  10. I've lived in many places yet mysteriously at times I yearn fot the tropical air of my birthplace. Your poem is lovely and made me think of home.


Thank you for commenting. I really appreciate you taking the time to read my poems and leave feedback. It is what keeps me going and has me striving to better my craft. So, thank you, thank you, thank you!