Burning Bridges

It's been a certain kind of loneliness

One I'm not familiar with

Living in a town

Where people seem afraid to smile.

More than once I've felt a fool

When greetings and salutations go unrequited 

There was the volunteer for charity

Who chose to ignore me

As though my money

Would not help their cause.

I wonder how many dollars were lost

Due to sour disposition

Or was this a gift

Just for me?

Perhaps I smell like an outsider

An invader from the south.

They are defensive of the beauty

That surrounds them.

Have colourful names for those who only visit.

I am susceptible to unkindness, selfishness

I have found myself changing. 

What would staying have done to me?

I still can't quite shake the northern chill in my bones,

Nor have I found the words to describe the borealis that once danced in my back yard

Tomorrow, it's the long road to home

Where people smile when you do

Even if they don't want to.

There...

The words will find me.

Natasha Head