Ballad of a Hometown Hero

My town was once green,
Painted across Alabama skies,
Punctuated by wind,
Christened by once-a-month rain.

I was green here too-
Innocent in ways that almost annoy me now.
I would have never known it,
And if you told me,
I would have sworn it was the devil.

The soil was good here.
In it, they planted me first.
I grew like a flower,
Turning her face to the sun,
Stretching and bending
In ways that would eventually sag
As I learned to straighten up.
It was all I knew of love.

I didn't know those at higher altitudes
Could live with less oxygen,
Their bodies shifting over millennia
To adapt.
I guess with all the trees,
My head was full of the stuff
Too much air.

The winds must change-
Mother Nature's temper flares.
We called that growing up.
And people have thorns,
Did you know that?
I learned I had them too.

And roots don't always rest easy.
I started to itch beneath my skin,
Wondering if there was more
Then, just this growing in place.
The world whispered promises
Or lies, I'm not sure now,
But I craved that wilderness
I had never known.

Have you ever thrown fine china
At tradition,
And called it paying homage?
It was fun.
It broke as easily as I did,
In those days.

I wanted to explore the world
Before mine closed in on me.

And so Home became
An ecology
Of culmination.
I learned the world was wider
Then the space between the trees.
Still, in the quiet hours,

I wonder if my roots still crave
What I've left behind.