Nearly home

By -
I'm nearly home.
The pencil rose sky
deepens then crescendoes
with the honking sound of ducks
and their echo.
I spin to locate them
and watch them rise
heads low, bodies straight -
eager shapes,
discordant shadows.
They call -
leaving their kicked-up ripples
behind, in black water.
I'm silent, but my longing
to distance the day
from my returning self
is just as loud.

 
C. LJ Ireton, 2025

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