Going Back

I put out the cigarette Rubbing my hands to keep warm And take a last look Tomorrow morning I’m leaving this room Going back home The woman I married, The one with the light brown hair, Now graying at the temples Says it’s been a long time. I travel past open fields That stretch forever Ride on concrete highways That seem to disappear in the horizon Cross steel bridges Suspended over cities and towns And places nowhere on the map The road back Is not that easy. Friends tell me That my daughter, Once a little darling with curls, Is grown up now With her own family My son, Anger in his eyes Impatience in his soul, Wants to leave Just to go anywhere. The trip’s ended I stand in the doorway Wife and I Stare at each other In awkward silence And I remember We never did talk that much She breaks the stillness Her voice matter of fact “There’s a plate for you in the kitchen Eat it while it’s still warm.” As I walk by She touches my arm Her gesture saying more Than words could ever say Pulling up a chair I look around The familiar kitchen It feels good To be back home.