HOME
Home is the word that weighs too much to say
Volumes of wistfulness to crush the tongue;
A straining lid on tortures locked away,
The word is uttered - and the catch is sprung.
It paints vignettes of half-remembered
scenes,
Familiar quiet, between
the brash and new,
The tongue speaks
it, the mind spells what it means,
The
apex of the spear is driven through.
Flightless,
we watch the free-scape of the sky,
The
window seems a picture on the wall;
No
more dimensions than what meets the eye
No other lives but dreams hold us in thrall.
When every last defence is stripped away,
Home is the word that weighs too much to say.
© by Sara Russell 2004
January 28 2004
This sonnet has a fascinating history behind it.
Sara Russell fell victim to a serious accident in December 2003, when she fell from a train. As she was hospitalized
for a couple months, she became understandably homesick. That is the genesis of this sonnet. If you would
like to learn more about Sara's remarkable recovery, please check out the January 2004 issue of Poetry Life & Times (UK)
here:
