First box home today.
Two more lay packed on ready on the kitchen floor.
I am ready, ready, ready,
not at all.

One final done.
Four more to go.
Papers, papers, news story, papers, test, test.
Home.

I can’t wait to get off the plane.
I can’t wait to see him waiting there.
I can’t wait to jump into his arms
and feel home.

Six days.

The train tonight.
I smelled the air,
pungent from below and
realized it was one day
closer to the last.

Time. Is. Slipping. Away.