Jet Lag

Adventures in a new continent,
Sudden caresses of the crisp wind,
The crunch of freshly fallen leaves,
And assuming a label that isn’t rightfully mine.

In the middle of a beautiful nowhere,
A town frozen in time and soon to be frozen
As crunchy gold gives way to gloomy blankets
Of snow I might never catch,
The White Christmas I might never get,
I yearn the very thing I’d run away from:

Cramped, crowded, colourful,
Hot and hectic,
Not to mention, convenient,
Familiar.
Friends, family, faces I recognise.

Far away, hours away,
My sunrise and their sunset in tandem,
I reach through my digital screen,
Hear digitized voices,
Mediated through miles unbridgeable
As the gaping hole where my heart used to be.
I must have left it at home.

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