Lightning in a thunderstorm flashing —streaking through the sky.
Hidden in shadows —frightened by the glow;
Richard ran home in darkened skies
before the thunder —could shake the ground.
Quickly finding a door unlocked, he opened it.
Kerosene cook stove glowing; he took his seat at the table with a sigh
—finding himself, not alone, with baby Bobby
and his older sisters, Michelle and Priscilla inside.
(this day after 5 yrs. having been separated by age and gender, we left together from St. Peter’s Orphanage, holding each other’s hands, knowing this is, are only home)
Neeraj Khanka
May 13, 2018 at 10:27 am
Indeed, no place like home with loved ones.
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magicalmysticalteacher
May 8, 2018 at 12:17 pm
The waiting sisters may not have been welcome, but they kept their vigil of love until their wandering brother returned. Life is often paradoxical like this poem.
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Sarah Russell
May 8, 2018 at 12:01 am
Ah, to reach home safely. There are so many who can’t, or don’t.
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dsnake1
May 7, 2018 at 9:18 am
what a relief not to be out there anymore. 🙂
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sanaarizvi
May 7, 2018 at 4:42 am
I got goosebumps!
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Rosemary Nissen-Wade
May 6, 2018 at 8:31 pm
Oh, the relief!
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gillena
May 6, 2018 at 7:00 pm
Very comforting
Happy Sunday
Much🌼love
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kanzensakura
May 6, 2018 at 6:40 pm
I like that brother has some time to himself!
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Donna@LivingFromHappiness
May 6, 2018 at 3:45 pm
That feeling of home….refuge in the storm….very vivid.
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Jo
May 6, 2018 at 3:32 pm
“Richard ran home in darkened skies” – I love that line!
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Mary
May 6, 2018 at 2:43 pm
I feel this one!!
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annell4
May 6, 2018 at 12:18 pm
Sounds scary!
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Sherry Marr
May 6, 2018 at 11:21 am
Lovely when home is a refuge from the storm. Have a wonderful Sunday, kiddo.
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