Kimberly Vargas Agnese

Homing 


my fingers twirl and nudge the

belly of my hand,

let go and 

fly…

like feathers

holding passports,

unfolding 

past flights of moral trees combing windy haired cock fights and 

fins of flying fish

flying south, missing north 

me and my pigeons looking for 

a beak of bread

a lighthouse full of 

palms and psalms…

feathery fronds floating east 

and west 

dipping our heads, cooing prayers…

we fly home

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Published by Kimberly Vargas Agnese

My name is Kimberly Vargas Agnese, though I've previously written as Kae Bucher. I was born in the Florida Keys, but grew up in the Bay Area before migrating south to the San Joaquin Valley. As I ride barefoot around Fresno, I consider the paths I've chosen and the crossroads where our country seems to have perched itself. Thanks to my Romani ancestry, many people groups reside within me and my poetry tends to reflect this. I love welcoming the sunrise with my Native American flute. I've been rumored to juggle while teaching students how to write. And if you can't find me, I'm probably hanging out with Jesus listening to parables.

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