Though I have called many houses home,
one looms soft in my mind and heart.
Red brick and tin roof,
housing laughter, devotion, and discipline.
Outbuildings all for the quick feet of exploring youth,
cows, cats, chickens, and free range kids
with a wood and a river to expand our heroic adventures.
An apple tree to write poetry in,
snowball trees to blossom and blow to the wind,
a currant bush to pick and pucker,
and many a roof to scamper on, defying gravity and powerlines.
It was and is in my heart home.