Where is home?


Is it the place you’ve always resided,

storing memories as well as old clothes,

decorations, exercise equipment adorned with drying washing,

a teaspoon left on the draining board

after a hastily made cuppa?


Or is it the place where the people you love

greet you every time you appear,

whether it’s for an hour

or a week?

A place where you can be who you are,

no holding back,

and be totally, completely, accepted.


Where blood is not necessary to feel part of the family,

only warm smiles,

several helpings of tender sarcasm

and words that always bring

lightness of step

whenever they’ve been uttered.