homecoming julia

i was on the trip back from the country when the news reached of your coming home. and we talked of that letter i wrote underwater that was painful and every day that passed without a word is a crumbling and i would often think of those that i said so strongly that in truth is a crumbling for the provision of freedom is an irony of death in disguise but i must submit to grant you because the world did not raise me and me alone. i have long heard of the story of these crazy men somewhere in this big city and with the idle their game of betting on the first pigeon to fly home where they drove these flocks in a huge dark cage of a truck and releasing them in a far off place some miles away from the city. indeed they find their way home. and surely he who places his bet on the first bird wins. but its their business and i would have nothing to do wit it. it amazes me the pigeons and how they always find their way home. i don't know why. i. do not know. and now my eyes are clouding chocolate tears from heaven. you've been missed. welcome home i've cleaned up your room.