Welcome away home

Wind chimes sneaking over the terrace,
creaking parasols mourning the change of season,
jet planes impersonating clouds on their trail,
street lamps flicker on to pave the way,
of drenched roads and pavements,
and early closure of days.
for the little bodies to stomp in the collection of drops,
as i recognize the mother i knew sometime ago, on the door welcome matt,
annotating to others, i should welcome myself in,
as the dog sneezes in the corner,
and father locks his briefcase on the penultimate step,
taking a glance, and stalling to take his feet up one more,
i feel strangely rooted and unaccepting of the gesture,
thinking i will just keep myself to myself,
thank you but no thanks