Orenda Circle

There are handprints in the sidewalk on Orenda Circle stock-still over time
Our lives shift and diverge like back when Sarah slept the whole 8-hour drive
We arrive at separate plot points like the sprawling roots that ground our parents lives
And I don’t know if John will ever get clean
Or if our parents’ rift will tear the seams

There’s a train on the northern shore of Maine
To a city I don’t know but recognize
There’s a street with a canopy of leaves
Where I’ll rest my head with all my heart and pride

We drew growth-lines by the stairwell and surrendered to the vast unfolding page
In the living room we learned to cry together, gathered humbly by a flame
There’s a symmetry to all these random waves of fractured frames like splintered wood or splattered paint
And I don’t know if Jess will ever leave home
Or if our parents’ love is set in stone

There’s a train on the northern shore of Maine
To a city I don’t know but recognize
There’s a street with a canopy of leaves
Where I’ll rest my head with all my heart and pride
There’s a train on the northern shore of Maine
To a city I don’t know but recognize
There’s a street with a canopy of leaves
Where I’ll rest my head with all my heart and pride
There’s a train on the northern shore of Maine
To a city I don’t know but recognize
There’s a street with a canopy of leaves
I will call my home with all my heart and pride