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Coming Home

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Coming home today, today he is coming home
Only a few hours away as we discuss what we think he has learned
Coming from the sandy shores on the Cape
Coming from the boats, his friends, his experiences
I wait at the door for only a few moments until he turns the brown metal doorknob
We run up to his room, where the red football sits on the soft carpet
He is coming at me with the football; I bring him down by the feet
When I get the ball, I jump around the room
So many different topics to talk about, so little time
He wants to go over to our cousin’s house; I beg to go as well
I follow him around everywhere as if I was an electron following the magnet
Coming running to the calming pool, jumping sliding into a dive
He jumps a cannon ball that splashes our mother
There is shared laughter and joy
When he hangs up the towel, he closes the silver van’s door
I sit on the old, worn, wooden porch waiting for Danny to turn the brown metal doorknob again.





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Kbauer said...
Nov. 25, 2008 at 12:45 am
Great poem Maggie!
 
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