Asked

The Sum of Parts

There’s a half-moon riding over the mountain,
The sun’s half set at day’s twilight.
And on those divided slopes,
Mottling the dappled flanks,
Warm light and chill shadow play.

Half exhausted I pause in the street,
Sitting halfway on my bike.
One foot to pedal,
One to curb,
Just ten steps to my door.
Past the half cut lawn that mocks,
And up a couple stairs.

Half unpacked, half put away,
And a house half done.
Halfway employed,
A little dazed,
Maybe partly nuts.
A state and more from familiar sights,
Solitude’s freedom is double-edged.

The half-moon rides high overhead,
Twilight half come and gone.
My future stretching out like the night before,
There’s only one thing of which I’m certain.
It sure feels a whole lot like home to me.