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Come Back Home
October 16, 2014
Im having trouble sleeping
The air is fighting with the branches
of the elderly oak trees.
I feel you move the earth beneath my feet
as i stand by the window awaiting your return.
I know you will show up on my door step
early in the morning of december.
Telling me stories of wars
and your travels, the things you have seen.
You wont return the same, but at least your by my side.
For now i may only hope.
© Jillian K., New City, NY
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