Where the Heart Is

[Bunx]

Where the Heart Is

The world isn't really much
bigger than this map, he said.
It is precisely hand drawn
on yellowing paper, inscribed
with detailed descriptions.
He points to all the places
he's been, where they are
all within walking distance
of the only home he's known.

He laid out his entire life
intentionally- some places
highlighted, others struck through.
As you walk beside him
on the trail by the creek
he stops, at a large old oak-
initials fading, yet clear.
I always knew that girl
would be my wife.

Further up, you cross on flat stones
where the creek is shallow, winding
with the path through tall sycamores.
You come to a small white church
marked with a heart. Behind it
a headstone circled in red. He carefully
folds the map; hands it to me, gently.
It's yours now, son-
you'll know where to find me.

This is a beautiful poem Mark. I lost an Uncle recently that moved back to our hometown in his 90's. He carried alot of family history with him and reading this poem makes me nostalgic about my families past in Montana and the stories my Uncle used to tell. Also being pretty stuck in Montana I relate to this poem alot, instead of oak trees elms, mountains, streams, and hidden lakes. 

Hope you're well and love this piece.