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Comments about John Godbey
Coming home was once a vapor trail
Splitting half the sky of twilight's dome.
Once it was the popping of the sail
As I tacked my tiny craft toward home.
Engine stalled, I crunched the icy streets
Home from college, fingers stinging cold,
Walked my girlfriend home in summer heat
Which was huge when I was 12 years old.
Now it's just the traffic jam at five
Open the garage door with a touch-
Absent to the fact that I'm alive
I find I don't miss coming home that much.
If I walk in, and have to take a call,
My family hardly seems to mind at all.