Returning Home

Your teeth will always be there,

even when you're not smiling.

When the tears break and fall down your face,

sitting on the front porch swing,

where you discovered what it meant to lose someone.

The sun will always be burning

even though the clouds drape the sky at high noon.

When you hear the sky’s tears

gently tap the window next to your bed

where you learned the stark meaning of friendship.

You will always be there, somewhere in the world,

even if you're not with me.

When your letter came in the mail,

dropped through the mail slot in the foyer

where I put on my shoes and grab the keys.

You will always wear red, white, and blue,

even in your pajamas

when you climb into bed

and I lay next to you

where our house became a home.