Home


home is a funny word
when I trace the lines on my palm
they lead me there
like an ancient map
drawing me back
I don't turn around
but it comforts me to know
if I did
I would see a family of giant sequoias
with roots spread wide
prepared to catch me
towering evergreens
looking in pride
Granite Giants
watching carefully over
home is behind me
and ahead of me
it surrounds me in it's totality
I cannot see it
but I feel it's grip
like the arms of a father
home is a funny word

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This Poems Story

I recently moved from the mountains of the Yosemite area to a very metropolitan area. It has been quite an adjustment, but even the thought of home comforts me.