Older?  Surely.  Wiser?  No.  Back where I am
Almost always, I survey two weeks of change.
I missed the blossoms of the red buds and the big
Magnolia.  That's a shame.  The grass has gotten
Long, one noisome aspect of the earth's rebirth.
The coffee's as it was:  real stuff, a welcome
Respite from that instant junk we had to drink.  
The land spreads out forever, which is nice,
But I'd prefer some mountains.  There's no ocean
To be found, no fish or miso soup for breakfast.  
I'm relieved to get to sit on chairs with legs, not on
The floor, and sleep in my familiar bed.  I'll soon
Be going back work, a thought I welcome and abhor,
And so it is with everything.  I left.  Now I am home
Again, older, surely, and, like these surroundings,
There's no doubt I've changed, though I detect
No signs that I grew wiser while away.