Landed in ATL—
       wheels down,
       nerves unclenched.

Bag in hand fast, (*really* fast)
    like the city missed me back.

MARTA ride,
      that familiar rattle
      saying “welcome back”
      in vibration and steel.

Quick Sylvan drop—
      luggage parked,
      life unshouldered.

Irby’s by five,
       like clockwork,
         like gravity.

Tropicalia in the glass,
           Simple Man on the plate—
           first bite tastes like

           Atlanta remembering my name.

Mari sighting tonight?
Hard to say.

But I’ll be ready,
     just in case.

Seat saved in the softest way,
             smile on standby,
         “Yes” already loaded.

If it’s just me and the crew,
          that’s still a win.

Welcome home.