The place I call home

The place I call home ...

has sturdy, stubborn mountains
lined with tall, reaching trees
that touch the soft white clouds
in the sky above the place
that I call home;

has only two seasons: the hot,
sweaty summer
and the frigid, numbing winter;

has dogs peering through the windows
as you bike down the street
to your best friend’s house;

has the ravishing sunset to watch
as you curl up on the porch,
a long, thick book in hand;

has a good feeling
every time you step outside
and breathe deeply nature’s sweet perfume.

The place I call home
is called Vermont.

EverlastingWaves

VT

15 years old

More by EverlastingWaves

  • Thoughts after the fair

    I’ve never enjoyed the feeling of being sick to your stomach on a fair ride. Maybe I just don’t have the iron-willed intestines that all of my friends seem to have, because I get sick from going on the teacups at a normal speed.

  • october, my love

    october,
    my love,
    it is good to see you once again.

    although it appears i have missed
    your grand entrance,
    while i left the room.

    i walked along the street to visit you,
    and looked up,
  • scratches

    skin pulled taut and tight
    burning like the light
    that seeps through cracks
    underneath the door

    from stray branches and walking
    throughout the woods, balking
    at the idea
    of no path

    water rests on skin