Home
I remember honking horns and busy streets
I remember houses lined up side by side
The activity of Philadelphia pouring into the town
I remember summer nights
And dancing with my mom in the kitchen
I remember stickiness clinging to my body, my hair in wild curls
I remember getting older
I remember how it felt to make new friends, new family
I remember woods, and trees, and grass all different shades of green
I remember the bird feeders in front of my house
I remember my mom filling me with information on every type of bird there could be
And I remember my interest growing
I remember teaching my friends the same things my mom taught me
I remember starting again
And being scared to death
I remember being surrounded by Wisconsin farmland
By close knit circles, and small downtowns
I remember reading in bed till noon on sunny Saturdays
And my mom demanding I get out of the house
I remember suddenly having plans by noon on the same sunny Saturdays
And my mom demanding I stay home for once
I remember calling all these places home
But most of all I remember my mom has always been part of these places
So for me, my mom means home
