Hilltops In the Haze
Coming back home.
On your own.
Morning mist.
In the rain.
Nothing is the same.
Get going, man,
Back home again.
Another time, a different person.
Cable cars move me down the road.
Kites torn and wet on the ground.
Hilltops in the haze.
Onerous and erroneous,
My acrostic a broken cheese grater.
Everything's greater at home.
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