I am walking home.
Strange that this place
This huge city with its
And constant thrum of activity
Has come to be that place called “home.”
I watch as my feet cover the distance
Between here – where I am
And there – where I will be,
Step by step over pavement and crosswalks
around the sometimes gross and sometimes just odd
pitfalls of a big city sidewalk.
For a moment
focused deeply on my moving feet
I can imagine that I am walking to every home
and that when I get there
There you will be too.
That I will step through the creaky door
Of my old Seattle home,
The frame widened with moisture
So that you have to push it extra to make it close
And you will be there, watching a movie.
“come sit with us,” you will say
and us will be
you, and me,
and our giant teddy bear between us.
Or maybe I will round the corner
To my Colorado home,
To the place where I never felt lost.
I will step onto the porch and
Run my hand along the inside of the mailbox
Just in case,
And then hold the screen with my foot,
And pull a little on the door to ease the turning of the lock.
And you will be there
Listening to the opening notes of NPR
“hi honey” you will say
“did you have a good day?”
In these moments between here and there
watching my sneakers step by step,
I am just a breath from a home that cannot be defined by borders or walls
by state lines or keys
by ownership or signed leases.
And in unison the little pieces of my heart
left behind in each home gone by
give just a little
and I feel lucky to have been able to love so many places
so many favorite haunts
and preferred routes home.
So many finicky doors
and temperamental ovens.
As I enter the home
Of the here and how
It occurs to me
that I will someday imagine walking to this place
When here is there and
There is a new here.
Someday, I will feel the tug from the piece of my heart
that will live still in this screaming metropolis.
I will be walking
going home to a new home
Step after step
Home after Home
and always through the echoes and down the memory lanes
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