Poem: On My Way Home

By Michael Gibbs

& Annalie Maizel


I lay

On steps of stone

My cheeks wind bitten

Winter blankets my bones

My memory frosty

Each direction it roams

I can’t seem to remember

How I lost my way home

It’s here

I fear

Will be my demise

Beneath this old bridge

And the night’s twinkling eyes

My bottle is comfort

On nights such as these

But she’s almost empty

So if someone could please…

 This season

I reason

That I’ll find some work

And get out of the alleys

That I used to lurk

Find me a place

With a bed and a throne

It sure feels good

To be on my way home

 To date

I wait

For that voicemail call

For that janitor’s job

Up there at the mall

Night air is getting cold

Why won’t they just phone?

Can’t they see that I’m ready?

To be on my way home


I sorrow

For winter’s begun

My shoes are quite tattered

And a hat, I’ve not one

I pack up my duffel, and

Alone I will roam

Just winter and I

On these streets I call home

 This poem won honorable mention at the 2002 NASNA Annual Awards presented at the NASNA conference. It originally appeared in the January 2001 of the Homeless Grapevine.

Published in the Homeless Grapevine, Cleveland Issue 56 August - September 2002