Wanderlust


Wanderlust

I flip the cap of my hand sanitizer
The scent fills my brain
and the world turns
white.

I tense as I am thrust back
a month ago
Ghana.
Lemon sweet tart sanitizer
on my fingers
Eating fufu
plastic chairs
dirt floor
warm water in a bowl.
And I fly on the beach on
Promise the horse
she runs away, runs away,
and naked children scatter.

Cafeteria food
Talking high schoolers.
I am where I am
and my chest pangs.

“Radio,” says my German teacher with an accent.
I breathe in slowly
as the world turns
white.

A month ago,
Germany.
I stand in the feed room alone,
swaying to the radio,
mixing grain.
Dirty linoleum floors and barn cats.
The radio crackles and sings
The goats and pigs
waiting impatiently in their stalls.

Clicking pens
Shuffling papers
I am where I am
My head aches.

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