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Image for the poem Heading Home

Heading Home

Wind, take me to the Atlantic;
I’m finally ready
...I think

My dog needs to be groomed,
I say from the comfortable couch
in my overpriced living room,
sipping top-shelf coffee
under a velvet blanket,
typing this poem
on my iPhone

I am astounded at my priviledge

I’ve had the nerve
to dream of a smaller life,
built solidly -
a shrine to the treasure
I’ve been hunting
all my days;
a quality collection
of crafted magic
from the hands
of those I love
and common struggles,
where the only value
in my surroundings
is peace

I bet I’ve romanticized even this

moving across
one season
into the next
is never without
it’s full accounting;
a pause to grieve
the collateral damage
of a life lived in constant
forward motion
occurs wether or not
we acknowledge
it’s right to exist

I have found peace,
or so I keep saying

that’s not exactly true
of course,
but when you realize
that all you really have
are the choices you’ve made
-the ones you’ll have to
find a way to live with-
and the decisions you will make,
is there much difference?

acceptance is beautiful
but a real bitch

the lush landscape
of the Carolinas calls my name;
I’m headed home shortly
or to what will pass
until I find it
Written by LunaGreyhawk
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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