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Home is 
the soft fur
of the wild cat
that sits on the bed
is the dog curled up
sleeping quietly
on the rug
is the books
piled in a small corner
that only you know of
is the soft smell
of delicous food
drifting through an open door
is the soft sound
of fingers hitting your keyboard
as you let words flow
out of your head
and onto paper
is watching the snow
float peacfully
to the ground
as you curl up by the heater
is the soft feeling
of cracking open a book
and inhaling the smell
is watching as your family
crowds around the fire
is listening to the sounds
of happiness.