. . . where my pictures sit, framed and waiting to be hung.
. . . where a linen cat and silk rabbit perch on bookshelf ends.
. . . where the books rise up in staggered piles.
. . . where the sunlight lights up a trapezoid of yellow on the wall.
Home is . . .
. . . a dry place to wait out the storm.
. . . a place where gratitude swells.
"This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody)" by Talking Heads