Of time and place

Often the thought comes uninvited,
to go home.
Home in this active, overfull existence,
where does it stand?

Children do not sleep there,
animals no longer wait,
for food, or praise,
or recognition.

Old bookish friends are
Long lost to
time and circumstance
and disinterest.

I once dreamt of a place;
a bringing together of dreams,
laced with ethereal music
to enchant and enhance.

A place of conversation,
not mundane rehashing
of;
the daily laundry list.

As circumstances change around me,
I do not.