The Old Country: POETRY

I wrote this poem some years ago as part of a Life Writing Course.

Sue was my best friend. We’d  talk about all sorts of things  She came from England and I'd always referred  to it as ‘Home’, after all Mum and Dad had called it that. I’d heard it called that all my life by all my rellies, and I thought it was the right way to refer to England. That was until one day Sue said to me “That’s not home, why are you calling it that? This is home, where you are right now” So I stopped calling it that, but I think in my heart of hearts I still felt as though it was. Years later my husband and I were able to go to England. As I stepped off the plane I remember being so disappointing. It was not the ‘home coming’ I had eagerly anticipated. It was just another country to visit. The key concept there was the change in my belief about myself. My parents and sister were English by birth, I’m not. I’m a New Zealander. This is my home

HOME

Whenever she spoke of England

Mum called it Home

I used to too.

Until my friend Sue said,

“But home is where you  are”

So I didn’t call it that

Anymore.

When I went to England

I expected it to feel like

I was coming home.

But when I stepped off the plane.

It was just another

Country.

I was pleased to leave.

To leave the crowded places.

To be returning to blue water

And Green fields

And Empty spaces.

Pleased to be going

Home.