Day 45 - finding your feet, finding poems

Looking around, it’s possible to find poems anywhere. This is a found poem.

My parents were born in one country, left it, came back to it and then left it again. Yet within that moving back and forth they stayed in each town they lived in for at least ten years, if not longer.

After we were grown and left home they moved for the last time. The country they spent their last years in is now my home too, but for a long time I identified with the place of my birth rather than my place of residence.

Here’s Mum’s story of their last move, at the age of 50.

(it’s an excerpt from her book “A tale of three sisters” , which traces the genealogy of her side of the family.)

after thirteen happy years
we moved

we took early retirement

we set off
with two dogs and a tent

to seek employment
in a new country