Truly Home

a year ago today
I stood in my brother’s
driveway,
barely able to
stand waiting
to see you come
round the corner.

be safe,
but hurry, hurry
nearly hopping
up and down,
cuz I didn’t wanna
wait anymore.

then suddenly,
just like that,
no more waiting.

my childhood friend,
my heart’s companion,
there you were,
curly red hair,
shining in the sun,
big wide grin
squeezing your eyes
nearly closed.

there you truly were,
standing next to your truck,
standing next to me.

a bridge instantly
built in our eyes
spanning our lives
between years ago,
tears ago,
scuffed up recess,
and that moment of now,
when we felt
simply beside ourselves
together again.

I was so tired that night
but wide-eyed awake.

I couldn’t sleep
especially
not in that chair
stuffed full
with memories of my dad
who had died
a mere year before.

no matter how
comfortable it was
to recline,
there was no peace
in it for me.

and there you were
unbelievably lying
in the same room
with no space
for anyone else
in the world
on that couch

but maybe me?

if barely that.

but I trusted
you’d make room for me
I trusted
if I came to you,
you wouldn’t let me
fall over the edge

so in the dark of the night
I snuck over
and found your arms
wide open
and your heart
pounding like mine.

my well placed trust,
my heart sweetly cared for,
you held me tightly
in that skinny space
even after sleep
won you over.

and now wide-eyed awake
and scuffed up again
from our recess
I wish I could say
wait wait

I’m in no hurry
for that
year-ago night
to be over

I am simply
beside myself with
my heart stuffed full
of our memories

standing here
nowhere near
standing next to you

with no way to cross
that beautiful bridge

to that dark night
in a skinny space
and those heart pounding
moments safe in your arms,
where for once in my life
I knew what it felt like
to be truly home.

~cj 2014.07.10

Ode To A Grown Up Gordy

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Truly Home

  1. Steven says:

    Awww. That’s nice.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *