Coming Home - William Johnson Everett

[Larry Robinson]

Coming Home

The war came home today,
the buddy burned to ashes,
the howling headaches in the night,
the gun beside us in the bed,
the wife and daughter turned to ghosts,
strangers turned to enemies,
the blood upon the theater seats,
children zipped in body bags,
bullets buried in the classroom walls,
plastic flowers where the garden bloomed.
I see the shrapnel of my self
shouting in the silence,
speechless at the party,
sleepless lining up the bottles
in the cabinet
on the counter
in the morning at the curb.
And I come weeping,
my only home destruction,
my only hope a stone.
Beloved come and claim me,
I’ve come home.

	- William Johnson Everett
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