Long Way From Home

By: Claire Burrow

It’s a long way home,

miles of pavement and sky.

As we drive,

the sun chases us,

and the clock turns.


Radio changes,

melodies blur together,

making one endless song,

duets and duets of notes.


Heat hugs your skin,

your muscles screaming,

tree’s scent cutting into

the air, making your nose sting.


Yellow grass, green leaves.

Power surging through the sky,


long distances,

stretching on forever.


Under water,

the sounds are muffled,

like a downy quilt over the world.

The water surrounds you,

keeping you safe.


Buildings all lined up,

tall and towering like soldiers,

all in a row.

Shoes scuff the ground,

clothes rub together,

designer and

thrift shop.


As the sky changes hues,

and tires crawl on the ground,

as I get further away from you,

I know one thing.

I’m a long way from home.