The Old Country

There on the map but vague in my mind.
Blurred through the window 
As we touch down in rain.

Rain like some shroud to be lifted.
A rain ancestral 
And singing of pity.

This is the dream that will happen.
This is how it will all play out.
There will be seagulls 

And pints of stout and my face
Around every corner.
There will be you in the air 

And you on the ground.
There will be us in our cups
At the end of the bar. Sad ballads

To drink in the lingering light.
Welcome home, perfect strangers.
Welcome the heaven of peace.

Harold Whit Williams is guitarist for the critically acclaimed rock band Cotton Mather, and he releases lo-fi home recordings as Daily Worker. He is a 2018 Pushcart Prize Nominee, and also recipient of the 2014 Mississippi Review Poetry Prize. His collection Backmasking was winner of the 2013 Robert Phillips Poetry Chapbook Prize from Texas Review Press, and his latest, My Heavens, is available from FutureCycle Press. He lives in Austin, Texas.