I will never leave the foothills because
they have never left me.
Like an ingrained vein and artery, churning in and out
the lifeblood that is the Christian walk or the homemade
apple dumplings crisped in soda for the rest of the
I will never leave the foothills, despite the robes
I might wear or the color on my gown
or what letters are behind my name
because I was conceived and born and raised
and taught in the foothills.
yes, those disgusting, cultureless foothills, or so they call it.
my old self still lingers there, even though I
thought she died almost four years ago in
a tragic accident called transition.
but no, her ghostly real self still lingers
in the same foothills and she returns to
my body when I go there and go to church there.
Leaving the hills mentally would be worse than physically
though I will never live there again.
To forget that intellect swells there, though the scholars
wear no fancy hats. That though we are Christian,
we’re not the ones that the world loves to hate.
No, the foothills I will never leave because I
no I will never leave the foothills, for though I have left them
and turned away in my imagination like a foolish child,
they will never leave me.