© 2018 by Jardine Henry Hart. Proudly created with InHouse Publishing
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Leaving Home


The motor starts running

and shifts into gear.

No more safe harbour,

I'm drowning in fear.

A misty rear window,

a fog to my view,

These young eyes straining

for that last glimpse of you.

I'm leaving home,

l e a v i n g home.

Leaving home,

coming back no more.


R I P- Jimmy Screecher.