​I went to live
among strangers.
I did not know their tongue,
but they knew mine,
if not my paradigm.
They became more strange
the longer I knew them.
Until one day
I outgrew them.
Venturing out on my own,
a life nomadic.
Everywhere and nowhere
I went,
was and was not home.
Surrounded by people
yet not understood.
and all alone.
Now the more I get
to know myself
the stranger I become.
Time is metamorphosis,
and place
is where I’m from.
M. Zane McClellan
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