Home

The storm outside is raging
The windows rattle as I turn up the collar
Of my trenchcoat and turn out the lights.

Into the howling wind I fling myself
My fist gripping My coat at my neck
Squinting into the sheeting rain
And dashing from one shop's awning
To the next.

I cross the street and am caught midway
By passing traffic that drenches my shoes.

I sprint across in front of a trucker
Who obliges me with a salute.
I catch My breath under another awning
And I light a smoke.

I notice the payphone inside the door
And the warm interior of the Friendly Bar.
Tearing myself from the thought of it
I gird my lions
And hit the pavement.

The wind whips my hair against my forehead,
I wipe my face pointlessly
Trying to keep water from my eyes.

Breaking into a trot
I round the last corner
Drenched to the bone and freezing
With a warm heart and joy
At what my destination holds for me.

On the landing I shake out my hair
Take off My coat
Turn my key in the door.

Closing the door on the elements behind me
I am deliciously assaulted
By the smells and sounds of home.
Your warm laughter
Warms me and I smile.