Home, with my thoughts escaping,

home, with my music playing. Just from JFK, skipped straight back to Stiles. Missed Manhattan. Kairams kindly drove through the Queens landscape to the quays of my Haven. Stormy port. Walked into dark room and news of friend's father's death. Not a soft landing on the runaway to summer that spring is at school. Back from time outside of life, crashing into courses, applications and most seriously, a sober, somber mood. Going to sound sleep to seek to hear some solace in its depths.