the feeling of going home

By | 1 February 2019
the feeling of going home
brings a smile to my
cracked and sore lips

the quiet terminal
the whirring
coffee machine
in the background

waiting for
the arms
of my mother
to engulf
my frame

her warmth
laugh lines
worry lines
fade when
our eyes meet

the winter sun
thawing my
bones
frozen solid
from stony city
gazes unflinching

the years
of sacrifice
to stay home
with two children

she can
make a meal
out of thin air
with the
coins scattered
on our worn
scuffed table

protecting us
fed us
cleaned
back-breaking
work
to raise two
humans

with
black skin

to teach us
comfort us
when we
realised
the heavy
weight of what
our skin meant

all this I
thought as I
watched her
drip honey
into my tea

all this I
thought as I
saw her tears

all this I thought
when she reminded
me to be proud

her hands holding mine
soft and calloused
like shes handing
something to me

I will unfurl
my hand
when I am
to return to
the cold
when I feel
alone

all this I thought
as I stood at the terminal
back to the
towering lights
of the city
for my
domestic flight.


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