Sasketchewan

Home is a funny thing.

You refuse to leave your hometown—  

the town that raised you,  

claimed you,  

blood and bone.

Until one day  

it suffocates you.

Leaving becomes the only answer.  

Finding your Saskatchewan, in a way.

Laying foundations in the dark.  

Finding familiarity in unfamiliar routes.  

Building a home—

because home became poisonous.

So you find the antidote in foreign soil.  

A last hope.  

Soil that doesn't know you...  

yet.

A blank canvas.

Here there's no past,  

only the permission to start fresh,  

to lay your own foundations,  

to draw your boundaries again.

In that Saskatchewan  

where the ghosts of the past  

have no return address,

you finally,  

finally,  

take a breath.