Tumbleweed

Mom said we come from the mountain people in Beqaa valley

and I wonder if all those winds

wrapped her tumbleweed here

Mom says she will retire somewhere hot

to rest easy and give her skin the sun it needs

to heal new anywhere but here

The thing about tumbleweeds

is they don’t find their way back

The breeze will clap a goodbye song

against the flag boasted on her white suburban

home and she will float along tumble

spread seedlings and whispers of the ends

of her worlds while she swells

at the weep of the land which bore her