Home Is A Memory... Poem by John Tansey

Home…
Is a memory;
A recall to where I grew up.
Some ever lost place,
Torn down, years ago.
Now, just thoughts.

An abandoned, falling down house,
Gone to seed.
That, on lonely nights like these,
I crawl into a small window in the brain
And talk to my ghosts
As we play, through morning,
In the large gap of its synapse,

Because, by then, I wake up and leave…




9.15.8 John Tansey (Original Version)