| The Homecoming |
The rusty house, with torn tapestries of flowers and serpents. The loud music, the dancing parties, echoed in riddles jumbled in your mind. Meager dimensions of what? A narrow mind, confounded by memory. Keeping a distance, from buried recollections, as in wine cellars that are always haunted by the dark. Self- conscious of every step, regrets wrapped in moist palms, silence, fear of the things that have passed. Enumeration of cans stacked in kitchen shelves mirroring those roads the you once walked. The mind stops, the body goes. But you go back, back to the house you left ages ago. Returning to the mother with a pitcher of life's milk, leaving your inconstant spouse. And now you realize how the truth was captured by a lie and how the lie stole the truth's identity. In school, you read with the liars, in jobs you worked with the cheats, in marriage you slept with deception. Now all you have left is a worn down truck with smashed windows that you drive around, too old to buy a new one. So you return, return to the father who will help you shave and take you fishing. March to your bed like a good little kid. Close your eyes and sleep. When you wake up you shall find, what? Some forgiveness soon
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Poetry |
Classic Collection |