Day Twelve - a dorky dozen

The Home Place


Embarrassingly, cows now call it home -
and I mean that literally -
this broken down house
this shack in a pasture.

Or maybe that should be 'economically'
because it's just sliding down the scale
of inhabitability.
It still belongs to the domesticated.

This is the house my mother was born in.
The house where my own story starts
as a twinkling in her eye
as a nebulous when I grow up.


We are never that far from home.