The Way Home Poem by Phil J Hambling
The Way Home
The white of the doves
In the dark of the trees
The sweet in my pocket
That fell from the bag
Found again in the cold of the wind
With chilled ice fingers
Rescued from the depths
Of my flapping coat
Laughter in dim lit rooms
Raises a touch of warmth
From window to window
Echoing into a neon blur of
Lamposts and headlights
And the disappearing cat
With shiny eyes
Shows the way
To the lights of home
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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7/27/2025 4:56:31 AM # 1.0.0
