“Coming Home,” New Era, Aug. 1989, 26
Coming Home
Coming home one snowy eve
I paused just underneath the trees
to watch the sun’s fast fading light
surrender to the cloudy night.
In some fenced yard far down the hill
a dog barked twice, and then was still;
alarmed, perhaps, by some night sound
that came from shadows cast around.
The yellow windows’ brilliant glow
cut through the twisting, tumbling snow
to warm the peaceful, lonesome dark
as if a beacon to my heart
that called to me to enter in
and fill my full cup o’er the brim.
My family’s voices raised in song
embraced me as I crossed the lawn
and held me close like a dear friend
to greet me at my journey’s end.
Of all the joy I’ve ever known,
the most was felt when coming home.
Photography by Tamra Hamblin
Photography by Chris Talbot