In preparing to write the big China paper, I found this stuck in my poetry book. Oddly enough, it rests between two poems "To Send Far Away" and "Out Drinking on Dragon Mountain". I can't tell if I was ready to come home or dreading it.
Foot first,
then, as legs fold,
fall back.
Back into brown grass,
red clay,
dead ground Uwharrie.
Sweet Stanly burnt Earth.
This, too, shall pass.
