Home Alone Poem by Zachary Stefanski

by my father
Thomas stefanski


Home again, still all alone

Workin that ten

Just to come home, alone again

Sit down and take off my shoes

Too tired to get up

I think it’s the blues

I sit in my chair

It gets darker by the minute

The nightfall creeps in

And I fear what may be in it.

Silence sets in

Except for that clock

And now I hear the horn,

Of the ferry leaving the dock

It tells me that it’s seven

No calmer sound

Except that of Heaven.