Beckoning
inspired by being away, and wanting to be Home --
I spend my nights staring
into the infinite black of
dusk, hoping to see the
red flashing lights of your
train in its posthaste gait.
Stampeding on iron tracks,
as a herd of horses, their
manes billowing as banners,
their nostrils blowing warm
sighs, and their eyes, those
chesnut brown spheres, locked
on a destination. I eagerly
await your return as Mercedes,
and if I put my ear to the track,
I think I can hear the vibrations
of your heart, the subtle palpitations-
just when I have given up and
turn to leave, I hear the howling
of your heart, chugging and
billowing back Home. You
were always worth the wait
Odyesseus, I, Penelope have
moored myself to your love,
and this bond cannot be broken.
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