Home > poetry > The long march home.

The long march home.

I went bounding up the steps from platform to street,

determined not to let the night’s defeat gain more ground than it deserved.

I adjusted my gear with head held high,

marching back to my cave, thinking all the way

that even the most stoic of warriors may require

an occasional welcome from a late night conversation, an easy touch,

and an honest attempt at mutual understanding

forged gently by the conviction of tenderness and reassurance.

Categories: poetry
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