Home in a Bag
He asked me to bring the earth from his land. From a lost land, lost a long time ago. He saw it only once. Briefly. At night. It smelled of summer. The smell that you get there, in the Upper Galilee.
He asked me to bring the earth from his land. Hoping to touch the dream. Hoping to hold on to a home. Hoping to hold it in his palm.
So the earth from his home was taken and transported in a bag. It reached him in the cold country, where he now lives. He touched the stones. He smiled gently, then put them away.
Perhaps these stones, out of place have lost their souls?