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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #945950
I stayed in a hotel alone for the first time in 47 years. I missed home.
Solitude stirs,
Raising its silent head
To blink slowly at the light
Sneaking through the curtain crack,
While silence wraps in warm comfort
against the cold;
I lay it aside.
Electronic voices echo loneliness,
Magnifying the million miles between us;
Speaking a language
That does not know me
Like you do.
© Copyright 2005 Lobelia is truly blessed (mamahobbit at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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