First Night

Home sweet home.

Silence blankets

Warm bodies with

Cold, clear stars

On the rocky,

Chilled steppe.

Quiet whispers

In tongues

Not yet familiar

With my


The taste of

Boiled milk

From the stove


In the house.

Fires warm

While the darkness


Smoke rises

Ever higher.

Miles above where

I used to live

Is where

I live


Composed 06/06/2012

Author’s Note: I made a bet with myself to write one poem a day for the entirety of my preservice training. I was inspired after I heard another PCV say that she wished she had kept a journal of her time in training. Figuring that everyone would be doing this, I thought I’d take an alternative route: poetry.

After spending the day traveling to site, meeting my family, and having them bombard me with questions in Mongolian (with my only response being to repeat what they said and to follow with “What is this?”), I settled into my room.

I wish I had a picture of the night sky for this poem. I’ll have to take more pictures before it gets too cold.

Previous Posts

Resettling (Prose)

Next Posts

Unknown Birthday (Poetry)

Picnicking (Prose)


2 thoughts on “First Night

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