Tryin to Get Back HomeAuthor(s): Patricia RileySource: Callaloo, Vol. 17, No. 1, Native America Literatures (Winter, 1994), pp. 74-75Published by: The Johns Hopkins University PressStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/2932055 .

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TRYIN TO GET BACK HOME

By Patricia Riley

sometimes it is hard to be here when so much of me is there the place i come from is warmer slower than this place a chorus of crickets and frogs the loudest sounds you hear at night this place you could stay lost in no one stops to speak directions say hello no one looks into your face for long

i dream at night wrapped in sweet earth smells moist air and magnolia colors gardenia scented shadows moss on trees i dream i'm back at mimmie's place and yard dogs bark and someone stumbles tryin to get back home he knocks over trash cans left beside a red dirt road for pickup in the the morning

and that is where i finally find him lost in silent sleep his cheeks rosy with the dawn a rotten peach half-eaten rolls off his tattered fingertips i touch him with my toes and say time to go on home now

and then i'm five years old again and watching for the garbage men

Callaloo 17.1 (1994) 74-75

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C A L L A L OG

slipping from my bedroom window at hot as hell high noon dropping quietly on the grass beside them even though aunt pet said no i shouldn't do it but i love the sound their fingers make as they push aside waxed paper and the smell of fried meat and buttered biscuits and the rich deep bellied laughter i follow all night long in dreams tryin to get back home

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