Treasure Island

Gunhild H..


One word
One place
One feeling
Home isn't here.
Home is the place where I feel you near
Home is where you grew up.
Home is where you died.
Home is far away.
My home is slipping away.

When I come home
I will light the fire
Go upstairs
Pick up your tools
And just hold them.
Just keep them close
They where once yours
You once used them
I wish you used them now.

Submitted: Tuesday, November 06, 2012
Edited: Wednesday, November 07, 2012

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Dedicated to my dead grand father Egil

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