Home

Home is mom’s Shepard pie and ginger snaps. 

Home is the one scent you can never quite place, it appears out of nowhere to return you to age 6 on the swings yelling ‘higher grandpa, higher’ it yearns to be bottles and relived. 

Home is the warm feeling of falling asleep void of the falling feeling. The feeling of birthday party’s when they were still wanted.

 Home is where you and your best friend will meet simultaneously without planning. Where you discussed who’s in and who’s out this week, where you learned she kissed the boy you liked. 

Home calls to you in your dreams waking you from the deepest slumber to remind you we are all children needing mom to hug them, wipe their tears, and tuck them in with a story just one more time.