Back at Home

The hotel room was quiet
And the curtains made it dark.
The bed was comfy and the pillows
Soft and on the mark.

Tonight we’re back at home, though;
Nine stories up, but still,
The city makes its presence known
As cities always will.

Our bedroom won’t be silent
And the blinds let in some light.
The sheets won’t be as crisp as those
We slept in just last night.

But there’s a certain comfort
When you travel or you roam
To return to the familiar
(Though imperfect) place called home.