New Poem: Welcome Home

Welcome Home.

Blue fields with skies of gold
waves of wheat linger in swaying slow dance
and family...
--Oh family
Silent on the edge of their mound
stones overgrown, rigid and cold
yet here, now, still and always
they listen, their frozen words muted on paralyzed tongues
and comfort comes,
in the great emptying of a weighted heart
their silence embraces,
like the soft woven blankie of a now grown infant,
wrapped and coddled in their heavy presence
and their invisible eyes, their shaded hands,
all reach out, gentle sage palms wrinkled and weary
cupping to catch the waterfall of tears
I can stand only leaning against the etched numbers
1993.
And I know I'm home

© 2011. Ami Lovelace

Content Copyright 2011. Ami Lovelace. All Rights Reserved.