Gordon Chamberlain Goes Home

Dearest Sally, The sun is shining –
it is good to be back home in the land of my birth
It was a tiring trip, north from Tokyo,
west over Russia and Finland, my flight
landing finally in familiar London
My mother looks to me healthy,
looks at me strangely, notices
my grey eyes buried deep in my gray face
She says I’m no longer her son, like I’m Jesus
asking, Who is my mother?
After we had seen enough of the world
neither of us could muster the courage
to tell them what we’d seen

Visited Aunt Betty and Uncle Dennis yesterday
She’s doing fine, active and chatty for ninety-three –
she sends her love, I’ve got it captured on tape
It snowed all the way there and
I don’t expect I’ll see them ever again,
the last of my father’s generation

I awoke early today, 5 am,
went for a walk down Memory Lane
Mother wanted me to take the motorized scooter,
but I told her someone might see me
who knows me and how I’d like
to give them some time

Spent an hour at the church in Clifton –
not sure my memory will hold it all
Reflected on how we all started
at home and then one day you find
you’re farther than ever before
and it doesn't matter what bus you take -
each house you find is strange
Sorry I didn’t ring, but you know how it is
when you get to talking about eternal things

The snow has now given way to rain
I’ll love you always, Gordon