a bone

collection of j. reisen

there was something about that certain miranda lambert song today that made me look up my childhood home. typing in "trumpeter drive, mt vernon," then clicking on zoom, pushing my arrow deep into that tiny plus sign that would sweep me closer into view and closer still to a gushing flood of memories. i wasn't even sure i would recognize the place, and i didn't, and out of longing i almost left to drive there, on a pilgrimage to find the place where i came from. i just wanted to stand there, in that cul-de-sac, on the ground where i once stood, back when the days were bright, and i was a bubbly baby with chubby cheeks trying out my own two feet for the very first time. so i could remember who i once was, young enough to still be full of optimism. i got lost somewhere, and i'm still trying to find out who i'm supposed to be.