Zugunruhe

The sound is far from your house but on the walk to your door I see an island, thin scrabble of land, a light house at one end.

My dreams go back to illegal barbeques at the water’s edge. Turns taken blowing life into glowing coals.

I promised to stay, and I will, but you must forgive my farawayness in quiet moments. And in return

I’ll come back again. Again, across the waters, heave the ocean from my lungs, each and 

every time.