Ages ago I left a small town life
searching for something I lost wandering
in confining predictability.
Big city answers filled my small town soul.

Glutted with certainties I staggered home
late one night to find it not there but gone.
A note on the door was all that was left,
“Could not stand the solitude: be back soon?”

I packed my things and left not looking back.
Seeing mother I told her the story
“You think you can leave home and home not leave?”
I told her I had no choice. She nodded.

“Your home felt the same way. That’s why it left.”
I got back on the road. I’m still searching.