Roots

The train pulls away
just as I settle into my window seat
"Lucky you, every holiday you visit a new home"
My friend's refrain makes me smile
Three uncles and an aunt
from both sides
Four destinations
Two vacations a year
Every fourth trip to the same house
Very clockwork
Very precise
Ever since I could remember
That had been the routine
They were all kind
and loving
The rest of the time I was in the hostel
Shorter holidays were spent with
the sisters in the convent
who loved me even more
Orphan that I was
You wanted me to write on roots?
Well....
Yes of course
I do have them
No tap root
Only fibrous ones
Spread across
Four cities.