Coming Home

Another day’s toil
is finally done
I lie knackered
on the plank of wood
that is my bed

A sore arm pillows
my weary head
but sleep evades
burning eyes

I count the coins
I have earned
They are not enough yet 
to bring me home to you
I fear they will never be

The black dust of the mines
is embedded in my limbs
I imagine it is your dark hair
entwined around me

The whites of my eyes gleam
like your fair skin
In the red I cough up
I see the rich earth
I used to till

Just as I watched the crop
grow tall and strong
Do you watch
over our little one
Are her eyes are as green
as the bushes I planted
around our little house
her hair as red 
as the bricks I used
to build it

Do you tell her daddy
will come home soon
Does she sit with you
and gaze at the path
that winds its way 
through the fields
hoping to catch
a glimpse of me

A veil is drawn 
gently over my eyes
I am striding through
the lands that once were mine
soaring on the wind
through the blue skies 
I know so wellI 

I can see the blossoms
framing our humble abode
You are standing by 
the little brown gate
I see the love shining
in your steadfast eyes
as you try to hold on
to the writhing tot
straining to escape 
your grasp 
and run towards me

I drop to my knees 
hold out my arms
so I can hold 
my little one close
for the first time

As the  breath leaves my body
The coins tumble unheeded
from my lifeless hands
It doesn’t matter…
I am back where I belong
I’ve finally come home

© 2017 Uma Venkatraman ~ All Rights Reserved

4 thoughts on “Coming Home

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