Tritina

I look around and see unfamiliar faces;
Homesickness sweeps over me like a suffocating blanket.
It’s the conversations I miss,

It’s the greenery I miss,
The light shining from my mother’s face,
The raspberries covering the garden like a blanket.

I wonder where I stored my baby blanket;
It’s the soft coolness against my face I miss.
I allow the unfamiliar tears to wet my face,

My hands blanket my face as I think of all I miss.