I May Leave, but I Always Return.

It's so peaceful and calming.
Too few hours ago it was shaking with waves.

An imperfect view,
but I yet sea the light
fading into the distance.

This breeze has become more than a chill.

Screams from my Ohio coat,
too heavy to put on still.

Where to from here?

As the coast begins to close it's eyes,
I ready myself to brace the cold again.

Somewhere I rushed to be my whole life,
I hurry to get home to.

These washed-up shores hold nothing to the
mild pleasures of independence in the Midwest.

I wrap myself in my colors that few understand.
Place my heavy pen back in it's velvet pouch.

Close my journey that's barely used
--stained with waiting and hopefulness of blank pages ahead.

All packed up and ready to return to the future that is all mine.



No, it's not sad.

It is not lonely
(anymore).

Not one person's dream.

Just my simple,
beautiful,
reality.