I am home
walking up the hill
between old walls built
by men long gone
radiating memories
of a world forgotten
by all and none

summer has left
turning our hillside
to a riot of colour
cascading, an involuntary
guard of honour

the morning light is soft
the day bright and clear
colours lift from the ground
to catch birds circling overhead
as they call out to tell me
I am home

[2023]