I'm Coming Home

Written by: Patrick Cornwall

He looks through the curtains as the meal is served

The sweat on his brow and the I.V. drips

Mom wears her apron with a picture of a turkey on it

It was her favorite and the music playing

And I'm coming home to where I'm loved

Father sits watching the game as the plate goes round

He had  money on the wrong side but he swigs a beer

Everyone seems happy and content so he knocks on the door

No one hears  and he stirs,trying to break free of the restraints

And I'm coming home to the warmth when I'm cold and alone

Where a man works and his wife cleans and raises the boys

Where desolation has no place to hide and no regret

And Mom hasn't begun drinking because her son left and will never come back

Where the geese still fly South to the warmth

Dogs bark and people have to stand to switch the channel

And I'm coming home

No cell phone or video games to gaze at and 24 hour news

The nurse brings a syringe and plunges it into my I. V.

The Angel wipes my soaking brow and gives me comfort

I'm alone with the mist and the murmur of the crickets

I'm coming home

The house is quiet and emptiness within

But Mom left a light on with expectation

A sign was set for all to know I'm coming

The quiet is lovely and the light welcomes

Home