COMING HOME

Mary Lee:

The bus bumps along on Route 66,

Its wheels warning, “Girlie, you’re in a fix.”

No husband to help me — he never did.

Would he be happy I’m carrying his kid?

Jake:

I can sleep on this bus, sick of staying alert,

Watching my back so’s I don’t get hurt.

Someone in Cross Roads means trouble for me;

He set me up once, but who can he be?

Both:

We’re two weary travelers on the way home.

Home, “where the heart is”— after you roam.

Home, where the pain was that sent us away.

Home, where we never wanted to stay.

—F.S.I.