Yesterday’s poem was about a spider and all his
complex, beautiful creations, which are so delicate but strangely strong, and sometimes
short-lasting. Today’s poem continues with the theme of home and what it means.
It’s a very small word, but with a huge meaning, and that meaning is as individual as we are. What is home to you may be very different from the next person.
Sometimes we find a place that feels like home and sometimes we’re forever
looking. Maybe our very first home is still the one.
Homeward
Homeward bound,
whatever home means to us,
so unique, a shell invisible
we carry on our backs
from place to place.
The house we grew up in,
newly born & impressioned
by intangible walls,
sparkling voices of family,
strands we hold on to.
Red flecked wallpaper,
flour-dusted kitchen tops
and a bear on a white crib,
where we still drift
to sleep sometimes.
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, March 29, 2021
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