to a holy place, a sanctuary for all who failed

we were led down a dark secret stairwell

into a musty basement that held what seemed to be a labyrinth

of room dividers and stained beds that were well slept in

by strangers who once used this sanctuary too 

I looked at all the other children who seemed to fear the 

unfamiliar. For all we know, it could have been a dungeon, 

but to me it felt like a playground! 

I introduced myself to the other children,

so excited to make new friends in a magical place

I showed them my best cartwheel and made my first blanket fort 

so that we would play out of the adult’s view.

The pastor came in to talk to our parents about

things we’d never understand

He showed me how to play the kind of tune you’d hear

at the carnival and chopsticks that everyone knew so well.

When the lights went out, I’d asked my dad, “Are we home yet?”

and he’d say like always, “Anywhere can be home.”

The sun rise broke through the tiny basement window

and greeted me in the darkness

I looked over at my dad who was still sleeping on the cot next to me

and felt grateful that we were together.

All the lights came back on at 6:00a.m and I winced at the harsh light

it was cold outside of my blankets

They told us our carriages await us again.