Alli Rogers Iowa
People change, families grow
There are hands I am holding
that I didn’t know
back when home was a place
and I thought that growing up was a phase
There are wrinkles on my hands
that weren’t there
when I started making plans
and plans change
Iowa, I don’t know how to leave you
don’t know how to tell you goodbye
Iowa, I am a field after harvest
sowing under a new sky, Iowa
My soul is weathered but green
When a storm passes over the roots are unseen
until all is laid bare
and the hope that I needed was already there
Iowa, I don’t know how to leave you
don’t know how to tell you goodbye
Iowa, I am a field after harvest
sowing under a new sky, Iowa
And there are wrinkles on my hands
that weren’t there
when I started making plans
and plans change, but you haven’t changed
Iowa, I don’t know how to leave you
don’t know how to tell you goodbye
Iowa, I am a field after harvest
sowing under a new sky, Iowa
