They're Home

like sleep
the house waits
for you
to open
the garden gate

to travel up the stone walk too
the ascension
is the first few of many steps
on your return

home
a station of dreams
the soul is
an oasis of arrival
anxious palms
holding the handle
the curve still cold
eventually everything becomes warm
in knowing hands:

the key will be buried again
the lock receptive once more
the door will give in
the frame conforms around

You
go forth softly
into this passage
open forever
surrounding
all, at once

the greeting is
the recognition was;
I know this place
I have been here before
I am inside you

finding
in vents
the warmth
the welcome
the fire started
the furnace already lit

shed the tie
the outer coat mounts
the baluster
with a barely audible sigh
anticipating the railing next

a motion, must be delicate
must be kept under someone's
control
grasp firmly
fine spindled limbs
understand what is held
within a slender spine
the flight
of stairs
now climb
with gentle balance
neither falls,
or
let's go

both on top,
where each,
we're is:
you and I,
Fine,
(the) light
And      on      it      goes ...
they knew each other as
they know each other we'll
say;
it was,
it is,
it might always be,
home

This poem was written in a form that Frank Simone calls "Elliptical Verse." To find out more, click here.