Each Place, A Home

Many roads traveled,
Dash counted miles
Between highway lanes —
Landscapes pass like paintings,
Each canvas a drama
Of nature and human.

Towns and cities —
Names on reflective green signs,
Their populations numbered,
Go by in a blur —
Homes on foundations
Of constant generations.

Some may leave,
Counting dashes to new places —
Only to return,
Missing all that was —
The familiar days,
And familial embraces.

Others never look back —
Tail light red in rear views,
Headlights to the future,
As they carry memories
Packed with extra socks —
To find themselves new.

Each place, a home —
Whether family is found
Or returned to,
The winding roads forever lead
To open-armed friends and kin
Ready to build fond memories.

This poem came to me while we were driving across the country. Since we were moving back to our childhood state and homes, I had a lot of that on my mind. For many people like myself, a place you grow up in can grow stagnant and we strive for change, whatever that may be — new places, new people, different views.

Whatever the reason, some may feel homesickness and want to return. We returned after many years for a lot of reasons, and it has felt great to be back. We’re excited to explore and show our kids the places, events, tastes, and smells of our childhood, and to find unknown places together.

As I saw those town names on the many exit signs we passed, I thought of all the people who’ve traveled the same roads and did similar things. I hoped to capture that in this poem.

As always, thank you for reading!