The Road Home

If she was a sound, I would gather the roars of the sea and the bellows of the stags

To mould her voice.

If she was a motion, I would look for every gust of wind and heartfelt hug

To ease her touch.

If she was a thrill, I would store all her views in an old box labelled ‘Spectacular’

To keep her rushing.

If she was a second, I would think of all the castles and their hidden whispers

To make her freeze.

If she was my home, I would not fight so perilously to have her in my life.

She would simply linger there, far beyond these memories we share.