Another airport, another plane,
The same goodbyes and the same old pain
Another “home” that is gone for good,
Although I’d stay, if I only could.
I’ll soon be there, in my “home”-to-be,
With new people to meet, and sights to see,
And I’ll grow to love them; I always do,
And I’ll call it “home”, and pretend that’s true
‘Til the dread day comes, as it does each time
And I’ll board the plane to another clime
And I’ll say goodbye and promise to write,
As I write to ten others most every night…
Oh, how I long for a permanent home,
And a happy ending to this sad poem.


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