When I Get Home 

So then the road turns a little to the left

Oh sorry, this is one of those poems,

They start somewhere in the middle,

You never really know where they began.

Anyway, road, turn, left

And I leave behind my shadow

Getting away from the darkness that

Is the fruit of my doings,

From the darkness that resides within me.

And I crane my neck at an awkward angle, it’s almost painful,

To look at it running to catch up with me

And it is exhausted, like I was,

And I look straight ahead, resting my head on the cold glass of the window,

Letting the stolen moments put my tense nerves to sleep.

I awake to the rustle of someone sitting next to me,

The seat, previously unoccupied, now is home to a fourteen year old

Starry eyed, dreams in his eyes and an excitement to his presence

That I have long since forgotten about.

He whistles a tune I can’t match to the songs I know,

And I resist the temptation to talk to him about my taste in music.

A few seats ahead of me, is a young woman

A new mother, cooing gently at her baby,

A baby, mind you, that hasn’t cried yet.

She tickles and the baby giggles,

And I miss my mother now.

Somewhere on this bus,

Is a couple arguing about why they make this trip every two weeks,

And why they keep wasting their time

And I wish I knew more to their story,

But I am tired of hearing people talk about why they hate their lives

I do that enough, don’t you think?

I curl back up into my seat,

And pull my jacket around me,

And go back to sleep,

Rocked into slumber by the gentle bumps of the road.

It still warms my heart,

The mystery of strangers you meet on public transit,

How you go the distance with them,

And you never even find out whether they’re happy,

Or if they have a pet, or a sibling,

Or their name.

And the next time I open my eyes,

I’ll hop off this bus, trot down this street

Pick a flower from your neighbour’s bush,

Walk up the pavement, right to your front door.

I’ll ring the doorbell, and count to five.

And when you open the door, I’ll brush the lint off your jacket lapel

And peer into the hallway, and at the packages waiting for me,

And at you, waiting for me too,

And I’ll finally let out the breath I’d been holding in a for a while now,

Because I’ll be home.

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