The Way Home Poem by Margaret O Driscoll
The Way Home
The dusky stillness unsettles them
On the way home bushes become bogeymen
Walking quickly, taking a short cut
Empty countryside crowds in
The sky darkens to the west
as they rush along the rugged land
Shadows cast by an orange moon
Stretch out to snatch them
Talking together to shut out
thoughts of the supernatural
Only pausing to catch their breaths when their home comes into view
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/25/2026 7:05:43 AM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
it's true there's no place like home..
Thanks Ging!