the outer rings of going "home" ... page six

i never really took account of the people i stopped talking to, the people i screwed over, or the people who grew out of a phase that was me.

i can never go back to that gray house in the suburbs and say that is my "home."

it's just an outer ring of who i am. it's just a way to put a milestone in my path and mark my way.

i can look back now at that sorry neighborhood and say, "hey, i got past that." or maybe i can look back now and say, "hey, one day i'll get past that." or maybe i'm just taking my sweet time, looking at the rings old friends have created and smashed ... the rings that keep scratching the surface, some coming closer than i might like.

denver still floats out there, increasing and brilliant, fluctuating and lost, "home" and different.