To go home...
and drink in the sweet air of being and belonging .
To walk barefooted on the damp earth and let the sand grains tingle the feet.
To ride the half rusted bicycle and let the wind run through my hair.

To wake up in my room and savour the dream that still lingers.
To view the green yard through the open window.
To sink deeper into the blanket folds and wait for my mother to give hourly time alerts.
To feast on my favorite dishes laid out with warmth and care.
To listen to the local radio station and recall myself.

To run, open the door for father, offer to make coffee and surprise him.