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Coming Home
i never noticed the light before i left
when my eyes fluttered with awareness
of the world
they were swimming in the subtle gold of the sunbeams
streaking through the aged
oak-framed window panes
small clusters of the warmth
gathered together to form etheral patterns
on the faded tangerine walls of the living room.
my was breath tight, absolutely taken
by the beauty
for just a moment there was a pause of piercing clarity
i could see everything beautiful in this home that i never could before.
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As many of you know, the nostalgia of coming home after your first semester away at school (most commonly it would be college, for me, it was boarding school) can be incredibly overwhelming. I hope this poem reaches into your core and pokes at that seldom-spoken-about emotion.