I am surprised to see that
I’ve put down roots –
I broke cement foundation,
I’ve sprouted leaves.

This place is mine. This place is mine.

I grow tall; spiting the odds
I’ve bent to fit –
I am the ghost of before
I’d forgotten.

This place. This place. This place.

I am suddenly hard.
I’ve broken deep –
I was becoming and yet,
I’ve uprooted.

This place is. This place is.

I reflect like copper pipes
I’ve rung like brass –
I am controlled by machines,
I’ve lost myself.

This place is me.