The Weary Traveler

The weary traveler...

Home home...
Home Home are the only words...
The words the weary traveler thinks...
home home...
the yearning is so strong...
home home
to rest his tired eyes...

He has been traveling for many many weeks..
going from city to city...
from town to town...
from country to country...

Many beautiful places...
Some dreadful places too...
cities big and small...
now he thinks only...
only of...
home home...

The place where he has lived...
Where he is welcome...
Where he can take off his shoes...
kick his feet up in the couch...
and rest...

Home home...
in his own bed...
where it hasn’t been tended by strangers...
To the food of...
home home...

He has bags under his eyes...
his many years now show...
his lined face seems tired...
and yearning for home home...

Oh how much he would give...
to be...
home home...
to taste the sweet tea of...
home home...
to feel the feel of the couch at...
home home..

Alas...
Alas he comes to his house...
He sees it from afar at first...
as if starving and staring at a juicy plate of food...

He is unsettled and wanting to be
home home...
he walks in the front door...
home home...
drops his luggage on the floor..
home home..
take off his coat...
home home...
goes directly to his own bed...
home home...
on the pillow rests his head...
home home...
the weary traveler is finally...
HOME HOME...

-Marcos Cisneros