I lived away,
for too long.
Leaving after a visit,
or passing by
on the train
or on the motorway,
I would press my nose
to the window
letting the silhouettes
of the mountains
fill me up,
cricking my neck
for that final glimpse
as I headed north.
There were hills there, too,
but they weren’t my hills.
Now I am back home
for good.
Oh, beautiful, Sarah! And such a gift it seems to have this, to know you are home for good. Makes my heart glad for you. 🙂
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Thanks Riba. It is a gift! x
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