Poem 27/365:2015 | Home, or that strangely familiar place

whenever i return home
It feels familiarly unfamiliar
because it is always changing
the way autumn changes leaves
falling in the wind to the hard concrete
covering the shadows of old bones
home is where the river runs
with all it carries along the way
it is where the heart rests
but home sometimes
makes you a strange familiarity

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