The Red-eye

I was abroad for two months, an extended vacation to avoid most of DC’s winter.  I longed for home days before the end of my trip.  I missed my routine, the comfort of my bed, my daily, albeit, short walks, etc.  I missed home so much I composed a little poem while sitting restlessly on the plane:

The Red-eye

As I sat sleepily by the window above the clouds

I watched the sun begin to rise and

Gradually blend with the indigo sky

Slowly blanketing the land with its 

dazzling light and welcoming warmth

Suddenly the green became trees and the lights, houses and cars

Touchdown! Oh, it’s good to be home!”

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