A twilight drive through a strange town.
Houses stand in shadowed moonlight,
Dark and getting darker.
Windows glow an amber shade
Or bluish light flickers across the walls
As the houses become homes.

There is life inside.
Dinnertime, early evening,
The time when families gather,
Couples hold hands in twin recliners,
Men and women busy themselves with chores
Or sit alone, reading a book or newspaper.
It is the time that homeless people miss the most.

I rarely see a body through the window
But I imagine cozy scenes in every house.
I want to transport myself
Into the glowing light emanating from curtained windows.
There is belonging in that gentle light,
Comfort.

Longing pulls at my heart.
Perhaps I want to know these strangers basking in lamp light.
Perhaps I want to share a meal and listen to their laughter.

But no.
What I really long for
Is my own home
Somewhere beyond the headlights
Drawing ever closer.
As we drive through this strange town.

August 2025