Tonight, Tomorrow

Tonight I’m going home.

I’m pumping my arms-
faster is better when porch 
and dog and kitchen and mom 

Not tomorrow, but a tomorrow 
home won’t be home 
and I’m not okay.

Home is standing with an ear 
to the stairs, an ear to living 
room conversations, nose 
to the kitchen steam,
and eyes meandering through 
to the bow window overlooking 
bird feeder and backyard.