Homesick

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    Homesick

    Homesick
    I point my truck south
    And speed down the interstate
    Mile after lonely mile -
    Nashville, Atlanta, Valdosta -
    Finally, pulling over to take
    A picture of the Florida state line,
    My heart a little less sick,
    Home a little closer.


    I meander through the back roads
    Past endless cattle pastures
    Orange groves, and sugar cane fields.
    I revel in the terrifying ballet
    Of the interstate at rush hour.
    Hundreds of thousands of people
    Going on about their lives,
    Unaware of my presence,
    Except as yet another vehicle
    Between them and home.


    I stop at all my favorite places,
    Scotts Landing, Montys, Loggerhead.
    I drive twenty miles out into the glades
    To hunt for alligators
    Basking on the banks of the canal,
    My camera at the ready.
    I take picture after picture
    Of things I cannot see where I live now,
    Of the sunset painting the skyscrapers red,
    Of sailboats bobbing at rest in the marina.


    Sitting in the shade of a sprawling
    Live oak dripping with Spanish moss,
    Feeling the caress of the moist air,
    The kiss of the ocean breeze,
    I think I may never leave again,
    I wonder why I left this place to begin with,
    Not the home of my upbringing,
    But the home of my heart,
    The home of my choosing.


    Then, without warning
    I miss cornfields.


    Homesick
    I point my truck north
    And speed up the interstate
    Mile after lonely mile -
    Gainesville, Atlanta, Nashville,
    Racing back towards the place
    I thought I wanted to escape.
    I guess sometimes
    You have to run away from home
    To learn how much you love it
    You have to run away
    In order to come back.

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    stellar commented on Homesick

    09-27-2009

    oh...i can relate with the excited tone of this poem when i go home again..i love to affirm my nostalgia with my favorite place....

    NevillePark commented on Homesick

    07-27-2009

    Nice bit of philosophy on the road. Thanks for the ride, and for for introducing to your long mouthed friends.

    HarverTomsson commented on Homesick

    07-15-2009

    What an enjoyable bit of self revelation! You make good use of sequenced geographical points to describe the transitions of the hungry heart.

    BessFromKenton

    07/16/2009

    Thank you very much for your comments. I'm glad you like the use of city names, that was just the feel I was aiming for and I wasn't entirely sure it worked.

    lightcourier commented on Homesick

    07-10-2009

    I liked this. I've always said the best thing about leaving is coming back and vice versa. It's simply pleasurable...both worlds. Pros and cons. Excellent work. Thank you for this beautiful word picture!

    BessFromKenton

    07/12/2009

    thanks for your kind comments.

    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    BessFromKenton’s Poems (19)

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