Coming Home Poem by Carolyn Brunelle

Last remnants of afternoon sun
fade into a colorful haze
behind a landscape
of white birch and snow.
Shadows of long blue arms stretch
longer and longer from the wood
to cross roads and cover bridges.

The sounds of school bus doors
clap open and closed
before grinding away and
leaving last drop-offs
to make breathy clouds in the air
with their giggling and chatter;
all excited and anxious to get home.

Behind each glowing orange window
a harbor of inviting dinner smells,
clanking dishes, TV, laughter,
and family waiting to gather
to evening table
with last stragglers to arrive.

Finding the way to safe harbor
brings an end to the day.