There Is Never A Home For A Vagabond Poem by RIC BASTASA

you arrive from a long trip
you take the stairs back home
the sound of the jet plane
still hounds your ears

you step into a garden
and the grass tells you
with each
blade that you have not arrived
at all

it is always strange
always
you miss home but there is really no home
when you step upon
the floor of the house
you plea for
a home but there is really no home

no little boy meets you and calls your name
no little girl dances for you

what you have are the dogs
and they have their own language for missing you
but they are never enough

when you arrive
in a moment after putting all your
dirty clothes in the bin
you pack again for shirts and shorts and
rubber shoes
the long way behind the kitchen
door
gives you another map for escape

you forget home
there is never one