where i was born

where i was born, a calm and soothing stillness
pervades. white walls, beige carpet, and the tea
that whistles only a little in the pot when it is
warm.
where i was born, the sunlight is filtered
through slatted white blinds. it sneaks in through
gaps under carefully shut doors into the cool dim
space.
where i was born, all things are sterile and in
perfect order, each object to its place: the
colors begin to blend, but the lines remain
clear.
where i was born, the cieling fan circled so
soft and lazy that it might as well have been
off. each blade turned slowly, a rotation of
silence.
where i was born, the view from the window used to
be filled with wheat and chaff. now only weeds have
grown up around big grey houses, and we have lost our
past.