Member Poem

Never before, had this strange place felt more like home.
Perhaps – because this is the last time?
I have strolled these roads a million times;
Walked past these trees every day, even more –

Yet, never before were they so familiar!
Never before was this sky my canvas.
Or this landscape my watercolors.
Never before did the open windows wait for me.

Never before, was destiny a vicissitude of the road not taken…
As I stand with a creased ticket in my hand;
The distant grumblings of an approaching bus booming louder –
Never before, has this strange place felt more like home.