Monday, June 9, 2014

Where the Heart Is

 Middle May,
I drive away
in my little silver Dodge.
Sun so hot it bites my skin,
As I bite my lip
to hold the tears.
Home Sweet Home,
But now it's gone.
I'll miss it every day.
Red shutters on a yellow house
morph into brown and gray.

New ward,
new things,
But they all seem old and dry.
New bench,
and every Sunday,
silently I cry.
New people,
no friends,
I walk the streets alone.
This isn't where my heart belongs,
I no longer live at home.

Middle June,
I drive by
my old house on 110.
In the window,
I can see,
all the walls are painted tan.
The colors are gone,
and so is my home,
I'm missing a part of me.
I must be the first to live in a house
So completely homelessly.

No comments:

Post a Comment