​​Colorado

by Kiona Conner

​​​

The mountain horizon
is home. Knowing 
west from east, that’s
home. The city skyline
is home. The sunset beauty
that’s home. My home.
The city screams. The
sun beams.  That’s my home.
Post-practice bus rides. While 
crackheads say “hi.” Yes, that’s
home. Mama made my plate. Sibling
run to play. Ahh, I’m home!
August comes, it’s time to go, 
to my home away from home. 
Flat ground and corn bound. 
Is this home? No family, but friends, 
they’re now my home. The chirping 
sounds calm me down. I can get used
to this home. Time goes by
as cardinals fly to their home. Now 
this is home. Wait! Has my home
changed? When time is through, what 
will I do? Will I go home?
Or did home come with me?