Michigan, Home

on leaving home and coming back and growing up

I think about Michigan. In the winter, when the frozen branches clatter against the rooftops. In the fall, when the leaves in the north North change sooner than they would back home (I think of how me and my sisters and brother all four of us would fling our small bodies into a leaf pile, how it smelled warm and earthy). In the summer when I am off in a…