Home is the purple and pink quilt
The marble topped dresser with full length mirror
The photos of high school
And college and yearbooks
The coming home to a memory of mama’s stew
You can’t quite recreate
For the cooking red wine on the baking aisle
You never can find.
Home is when you need talk
The ears listen
And murmur, I understand,
Let me hold you.
Home is open table
And a meal just for you
A pillow in your room
With memories you made within these walls
With these people who made you.
Home recreates inside you
As you make nachos and strudel
And teach the people who now
Live in your walls
And they can rest
And their tears can flow freely
When they need them too
And you will be the listen and the murmur
And you will fluff the pillow
Just like home sometimes, and still, does for you.
This post is Day 5 in 31 days of poetry.