by Richard Vince

He must have disappeared
Through the gap in the curtains
That gives away determination
Not to let the evening end yet.

The darkness makes sash windows
Look cosy, even though
Two winters a lifetime ago
Showed me otherwise.

When I think now that this
Could be home, I merely
Desire bricks and aesthetics
Rather than the heart and holding
For which I once longed.

Now I see it from a different
Angle, I cannot even be sure
To which front door my feet
Once felt themselves
So treacherously drawn.

In any case, the warmest light
Is in the place I call
My own, home at last
Somewhere I am always welcome.


Posted on 09/26/2021
Copyright © 2022 Richard Vince

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