HOME ARE THE SAILORS

Like those who sail away and then

come back, we keep returning

to a port we’ve never left.

A life we used to live

awaits us there as shores await

all sailors home from sea.

So much is differently the same.

And yet what is the present

but a future that the past

made possible?

There is

no older story.

And what

are we but random pilgrims

stopped in progress to remember?

It now seems more like then,

why care?

As long as home

means where we most belong–

for just that long– we’re there.

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