Wednesday, 20 July 2016

Day 20- After the War, the Refugee

To keep strangers at bay,
most of the homes were shacks.
He felt a stab of disappointment.

Evidence of harshness raced along-
concrete blocks, stacked bricks-
a sort of stalemate
everywhere he looked.

A moment later, he could see
drops on the windshields of cars.

Somewhere in between
the rain of a thousand storms,
A lone strand of Christmas lights had been
turned on, as if,
welcoming him home.

[ A place where it mattered
when he awoke.]

Source: Chapter 9, Nights in Rodanthe by Nicholas Sparks