The Journey Home

the rocks seem to follow
driving along the interstate
moving closer to home
yet further away
distances between lives
separations by roads
we’re getting older
wiser, we call it
our children
ages we were
travelers now
in all directions
alongside that highway
those stones are older than us
wiser, we call them
altering with time
reticent dignity
they accompany us
on our journey home
’til we meet again



May you dream of warm family gatherings.
On my 3-hour journey home yesterday, after a lovely family visit I was thinking…

Witch – sketched months back while subbing in Middle School



11 thoughts on “The Journey Home

  1. Well, AM, I’m running out of things to say about your poetry — so how about this: You’re a poet, plain and simple. You’re driving home having spent an Easter weekend with your family, and you’re seeing the rocks/stones along the side of the road, and you’re seeing life — the whole arc of life — in those rocks/stones. It’s beautiful, that’s what it is. Then you add scrumptious artwork and … well, what can I say? Poet! (No doubt about it.) Beautiful poetry! (It most certainly is.) Yes, yes, yes, indeed. 🙂


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