The Road That Ends At My Front Door Poem by William McGehee
The Road That Ends At My Front Door
It looks familiar, every stone
Every street and store near home.
The way the sun and shadows play,
The way the birds welcome the day.
The way the building spires rise
The way the city out spread lies
Though I've not seen it for a while,
Comfort grows with every mile
Closer, coming home once more
On the road that ends at my front door
Sunday, March 11, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: home
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5/9/2024 3:03:00 PM # 1.0.0.1119
