Throwback Thursday: home — Rachael Dickzen

Originally written April 13, 2007.

The power lines sketch across the darkening sky-
I watch them- standing motionless over the vacant field of green-
As I pull into the driveway and find myself home.

It is in the smell and feel of the air- the warmth on my cheek.
In the familiar feel of the leather seats in my car and
The way the pictures hang on the wall.

I’ll get bored and jump in my Explorer-
I love the way my hands curve around the wheel and
The power I feel when I’m rocking out- 60 mph on LBJ highway-
Singing to the road and the skies and the heavens and
Flying free

And there’s a bit of home in my daddy’s brisket-
The meat which Texans dream of at night-
I eat it with the barbeque sauce we smuggle down from Oklahoma every chance we get
And sigh with happiness.

The grass in our front yard- always green and wet and soft- even in July
The roses out back bloom and bloom- pink and red and yellow and orange
The sun beaming down and making me sweat-
The tree overhanging the sidewalk- guarding us on our ways.

Sometimes I climb to the top of it- no, not even the top-
And I can look out over south to where downtown Dallas
Shines and spins like a jewel in the night

The silence- the utter stillness of my room-
Christmas lights tracing the ceiling-
Grandma’s paintings of winter/fall/spring cover the walls-
Dried roses arching by the window and
My high school homecoming mums hang proudly by the door-
Whispering that this is the way it was- this is the part of you that
You can’t leave behind.

And who would want to?
After all.

And I can call up my Indian sister and head out-
For some lunch- for shopping- doesn’t really matter-
We talk and laugh and sing and dance and
Act ridiculous- in a way no other person really sees.

Afterwards we can go to the Starbucks just a little ways down from our old high school-
The one that everyone hangs out at.
And we can sit outside and sip our drinks-
Watch the birds gather around the intersection like Hitchcock’s nightmares came real
In the setting sun.

And this is the place where my heart truly rests
This is truly home.