Poem: Homecoming

HOMECOMING
December 14, 2012

Morning will end for most:
desk, lunch meats, desk again,
the slow afternoon
before our lives begin,
parking lot booth,
toll road, home.

By a door, a dog
turns his head
but no small feet
noisily approach.

Still, most of us will arrive
to digest the all-too-real,
clean our teeth,
wash our hands,
slip out of ourselves
for another night.

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