Returning Home

The Rooster Times

Home to my later
home to where I lived
home to where I loved,

Home being a concept
of something, I knew once
the familiar faces, places
the same paths, I’d crossed
crossing out when I moved on

Life being like a river
never returning to its source
the waters drove me into the banks
the undercurrent still grabbing my feet
tearing at me, dragging me onward

I forded the river
steadying myself from the current
taking careful aim to cross again
returning to where I began

Disappointment would find me
if indeed, I thought that everything else
all that which I held dear, hadn’t wouldn’t dare
to have changed since my departure
since my life’s bags were packed and sent
away from all that I knew intensely,
so intensely

The patterns of my memory
resemble themselves, and yet
the edges er worn and torn
the colors faded as…

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