January 2025

S M T W T F S
    1234
567891011
12131415161718
19202122232425
262728293031 

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Sunday, May 4th, 2014 03:07 pm
i want a word for the almost-home.
that point where the highway’s monotony becomes familiar
that subway stop whose name will always wake you from day’s-end dozing
that first glimpse of the skyline
that you never loved until you left it behind.

what do you call the exit sign you see even in your dreams?
is there a name for the airport terminal you come back to,
comfortably exhausted?

i need a word for rounding your corner onto your street,
for seeing your city on the horizon,
for flying homewards down your highway.

give me a word for the boundary
between the world you went to see
and the small one you call your own.

i want a word for the moment you know
you’re almost home.


This poem is almost exactly how I feel whenever I land at Changi Airport.
Tags: