by Richard Vince
He asks her if she’s come home
For the holidays; she says “yes”
And wonders what her answer
She returned from somewhere new
To something old, but found
It wasn’t the same “home” she left.
Sometimes all it takes is one
New face, and all is different.
I don’t recognise him. What’s his
Story? Maybe I should talk
To him. How much can I
Discover before I’m off again?
New places, new faces, new friends
To be made. Hers were just two of
A few thousand eyes, waiting to be
Filled with the wonders of
The new world around them.
As she took this new step on
Her journey, she felt the Earth
Moving under her feet; felt
Herself growing into a world
That was suddenly larger.
Where I was, smiling people
Surrounded me, and the air
Was filled with laughter and
My new, confident voice.
Now I am alone and quiet
Again. Have I come home?
Posted on 04/20/2009
Copyright © 2022 Richard Vince
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by George Hoerner on 04/20/09 at 11:10 PM|
I like this Richard. Someone said "you cna't go home again" and I know that was true for me. Both my parents have been dead for yrars and I can go back the spot now owned by someone else. It's the same neighborhood but it doesn't feel like. What can I say. Again Good Write!!
|Posted by Anita Mac on 04/21/09 at 03:25 PM|
So, my iPod happens to be playing Sinatra's 'It Was a Very Good Year', which put quite an interesting flavor on the passing of time as I read it. I really like it; well done!