No Way Home

Every time we meet
I walk a little slower
Feet that skipped
Now drag just a bit.

It’s not the years you see
It’s what I bear
What I left behind
What is mine no longer.

My eyes grow heavy
But not with sleep
Its tears unshed
Farewells unsaid.

Names without faces
Faces without names
Friends and love lost
And unreturned.

Dust is heavy
Its from families and dreams
Its from stories and memories
Its the sand beneath my soles.

It’s from trees and towns
It’s words and deeds
It’s the language in my head
It’s what I know.

I carry it in sacks
You cannot see
I carry it everywhere
So its scent does not fade

I crossed mountains
On feet that skipped
There is no way home now
With so much to carry.

Sunil’s amateur pursuit of writing and birding helps make sense of his full-time life.

Featured image: Daniel Straub / Unsplash