hypothetical rooting

do i discern the taste
      always
familiar strangers
                          smile
because i am not of it
or
   i am
it?

i survey
smooth white and connecting
lines of America’s backyard
if we had one.

i offer all the dirt accumulated
film on my street shoes
from places i’ve been
                       in a thought
to match the gravity i sense
all around me
but can’t quite make out.

chasing the sunny side of the street
where i am
it’s always windy.
is it possible to take root
                         here?
anywhere
             i am?

somehow
open and beaming and
winking violet in the sun
i don’t suppose
wildflowers are indigenous to any one
place.

~ by krgaskins on March 16, 2009.