It is raining again in Vienna.
I took a late afternoon shower,
and yelled my song above both rains.
Some places feel more like home
if you yell,
or eat alone.
I’ve never considered myself lucky.
Not like Jason, who was always picking up
soda bottle tops off the ground to find he
had won $40.00 here or a Free Sprite there,
but I do find myself in other countries,
more than my means should allow.
Maybe it was the weather we were born under,
in that old hospital on Staten Island.
Jason is in Naples now.
It is still raining in Vienna.
I won’t make it out to see him yet,
I hardly know how I’ve made it here.
Sometimes I feel more at home when I think of
my brothers, chopping up onions or
rearranging meats on a platter.
Lyndsay has her own way of travelling.
She keeps showing up in places
I’ve never been.
Our parents couldn’t have known
we would leave home,
and miss one another with such
The rain is slowing against the windows.
I’ve got to head into town to meet friends.
I wonder how my brothers are sleeping,
and if Lyndsay found her way back home.