He walks out at the break of dawn
to quench the thirst of his chilies in waiting.
The scent of the earth enthralls him as a golden sun
glares the morning dew down to mere vapor.
A foreshadowing of the day’s success to come,
the windows of his comfortable home have steamed up
with the sentiments of hot coffee and fresh tortillas;
he will be grilling his day’s catch of fish by noontime.
The melodic voices of his children sing the day awake
as the little ones play, preparing for school.
His heart aches with love for his family, as he hears the
rhythm of their lives building momentum after night’s dreams.
In the chicken shack, smooth warm eggs posture themselves
beneath the finely plumed hindquarters of mother hens.
His strong callused hands, stained with soil, burrow
in the nests to dislodge a few select ovals of porcelain.
As his gaze scans horizon, silhouettes of sleek horses throw
shadows across freshly tilled meadows laden with seed.
shadows across freshly tilled meadows laden with seed.
And the clouds in the sky billow like linens that have dried
fluttering in the breeze after a delicious soak in the river…
Visiting home like this, through the eye of his mind,
has become a painful pattern
that leaves him wanting.
He leans against a tree trunk’s rough bark,
feeling its strength, needing its support,
as he decides
the time has come.
At last, he’s going home.
So poignant! Lovely writing!
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