Friends call,
People you meet on the street
All ask “How are you going?
Are you doing OK?”
I’m just the same, ask the same question ,
and we give the same answer.
Because most of the time it is true.
We’re OK, we’re getting there.
We’re waiting and trying to make plans
There’s still ups and downs, but you know.
But at times, I think,
What if I told you really.
Would you understand?
I just want to go home now,
I’ve had enough of cooking in someone else’s kitchen
Enough of looking for things in the wrong places.
I want to stand at my wardrobe and choose what to wear,
Familiar, loved and comfortable.
I’m over the the limits of “holiday dressing”
Everything on high rotation and lots not quite right.
What’s going to happen when it starts to get cold?
I want to eat from my plates,
Sit on my verandah with a coffee in my favourite cup
Watch the boats on the lake,
Listen to my chickens cackle as if there’s some kind of joke
That we are not part of.
I want to eat eggs, tomatoes and berries
Not from the shop but out of my garden
Seeds sown and watered
Trees nurtured and nurturing
Sharing produce with friends.
My brain plays tricks,
Reminding me I haven’t pruned the fruit trees,
Or planted the autumn veg
It’s almost sweet pea time-
St Patrick’s day.
If I don’t get home soon it will be too late.
I want to pack away Christmas
Trees, Santas, Angels, Reindeer
Reminders of family, and friends and travel
So many miles and so many years.
January is long gone
But so are they.
It’s irrational, I know
But I still want to go
Home.