Nostalgia

You came to wander,

And yet all you can do is wonder

How tall the mango tree home has become.

You remember sitting under that tree,

And you remember thinking of the far away places

Which would set your heart afire.

You were sure.

You came to sit on the edge of the Earth,

Surrounded by those things that you

Read about, or saw on TV.

And all you can think about

Are the pieces.

The pieces of yourself,

That you dusted off under that

Red sky that stretched out like a tent on fire,

Underneath that mango tree.

You wait.

The moon hangs,

Silent and watchful,

And cold. 

You never knew that the moon could be cold.

The stars 

You watch,

Because you know you should watch. 

But you know that

None of them

Will put you together again.