Follow Me Home Again
THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME
A WOODEN OLD HOUSE
BUILT OUT OF TREE LIMBS AND PAPER BOXES
THE SMILE OF BURN WOOD FROM
A BURNING BURREL OF LEAVES
CRACK WINDOWS THAT LENGER FROM THE OUTSIDE
A OLD ROCKING CHAIR BY THE FIREPLACE
THAT CRACKLES FROM ROTTEN CRUSHED CANS
A OLD HOUSE SITS OUT IN THE WOODS
LIKE A WOODSTOCK OF FRIGHTENING BIRD'S OF PREY
WIND BLOWS THROUGH THE OLD HOUSE
SHIVERING FROM OLD AGE
SITTING THERE WONDERING
WHO WILL MAKE IT A PLACE OF HOME
THE SOUND OF THE HOUSE
SINGS LOUD LIKE A TEMPLE OF DOME
THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
