Tilting At Windmills: Wanderlust
Published: July 11th, 2025
By: Shelly Reuben

Tilting at Windmills: Wanderlust

Pack my bag,

I’m going home.

Good God, I’ve waited long.

To stay away

For such a time,

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Was folly … waste. Was wrong.

Reserve a room,

I’m going home.

And tell them: King sized bed.

At last, I’m off.

Alive again!

My soul was nearly dead.

Rent a car.

Convertible.

Bright red! No. make it yellow.

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I’m going home.

Oh, cheer for me!

I’m such a lucky fellow.

Once I’ve arrived,

I’ll stay one night …

But then, I’ll have to go.

A week in Aspen,

Day in Guam.

And then … Well, I don’t know.

New York. London.

Panama.

And then a week at sea.

Kenya. Ireland.

Canada.

And, also Gay Paree!

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Why the look

Of bafflement?

What can’t you understand?

You’re wondering

Where it might be,

My home … my Native Land.

Ha Ha. My Dear,

You didn’t know.

I see it on your face.

That home for me’s

A train. A plane.

My castle … a suitcase.

So, pack my bags,

I’m going home.

A residence is wrong.

It keeps me put

In just one place …

Away from “home” too long.

Copyright © Shelly Reuben, 2025. Shelly Reuben’s books have been nominated for Edgar, Prometheus, and Falcon awards. For more about her writing, visit www.shellyreuben.com.




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