Home can hide anywhere
Even unexpected places
It's a scent caught on the breeze
The soothing sound of familiar words
An accent
A phrase
Home is an old friend, lost over the years
A song
A whispered secret
Sometimes home is a cinderblock wall and tiny desks in a row
The deck of a ship
A baseball field
A shady bench at a busy bus stop
Sometimes it's rain filtering softly through trees
Sometimes thunder crashing
Wildflowers peeking through rough soil
The tang of lime on my tongue
Sometimes home feels far away, even as I lie in bed
Something's missing
A home I once knew
Something just out of memory's reach
Home is a collection
So I'll keep on filling my pockets
Treasuring the pieces
Until
I am
Complete
