Home

I'll be the wooden beams
that bend and arch
under rooftops.
And hold the red, raw bricks
up to the sky
for you.

Rough and dense, thick concrete and steel foundations
based on rich soil
that hold the earth.
A shell fufilled with blessing.

Open windows
can show us our world
and we can gaze
at the moon
from the solid garden gate.

We walk through air
and tread on carpets
passing photographs on strong walls,
that tell a story
of where we are
and how we got here.

Nothing else is home.

Copyright ©2009 Molly Smith

- if ya dont get it, its symbolism yall