this way

This is the way I feel.
I haven’t felt this since those high school funerals.
the way I feel. 

I haven’t felt this since goodbye last year.

(since)

I am leaving my country.

My heart is buried in this ground

One two three hacks with a shovel unearth my heart pry it out as this flight lifts up

This is the way I feel 

You are my country

This was different

We were new

Airplane windows have painted a landscape of fire 

Gold from the sun is reaching out to touch me with its fingers. His hands curl and are gentle, 

His fingers look like yours 

Wide broad brown soft kind strong 

I smell your touch and

I am warm even through airplane air-conditioning 

You are my country. 

This is the way I feel.