Do I know the way home?
Am I homeward bound?
Where is home, anyway?
A place on a map?
A certain point in time?
A state of mind?
Some barely emoted emotion?
Some barely dreamed-about dream?
All of these?
None of the above?
Who knows?
I look around the train
At familiar faces that have turned unfamiliar;
I look out the train
At station names that have changed beyond recall,
At a route that has altered beyond recognition.
Where is this taking me?
Or am I not supposed to be here
In the first place?
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