long way from home

I am like some weary traveler
in a hotel room
lost between the shower and the ice machine
with plans to come home
for the holidays
we would have coffee
a candle flickers on the table
your hands play with your spoon
I watch you brush the hair from your forehead
loosen the scarf at your neck
your eyes look beyond me
to some future that almost was
and I fade from the table
stranded on some stretch of highway
a long way from home

5 thoughts on “long way from home

    • Often, though, I wonder if I’ve perhaps hung my head in one too many places. But as long as I’m doing the hanging, and not some posse, I suppose it’s all right.
      I enjoy your work, by the way, and see we both have bookstores in our respective pasts in common.

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