Home

These lazy days of summer keep rolling out and unfolding

one after another

gifts of fruit, ripening on the tree

generous oaks and weeping willows

with their swaying canopy

streaming gentle sunlight

but I've a longing

for grey days

biting winds

hardscrabble pines

the fog unrolling from the sea

sneaking up the soft shouldered streets

that trace the lines of hills

looking for a lighthouse

to guide me home

Or perhaps a siren

to call me deep beneath black waters

a star, a hearth, a heart

home is where I made my second start

living by the rocky shore

i never thought much of the backdrop,  the scenery

it was just the background to other dreams,  the place I left for dreamscapes

yet now I lay my hard beneath the weeping willow

I know I am not she

the girl who dreamed

but my mind it cleaves

To the rock, the bones of my home

the lights from the plane

that lighthouse of a city

clings to the edge of the sea

calls me home

the only place I ever called home

where I return to myself

solitary but not alone

for I have the wind, the stones, the mist, the sea