Home

Home is where spent my childhood.

It’s where I learned to flat foot and buck dance

and turn sorghum into molasses.

At home all the locals know your name and

what year you won the spelling bee.

Home is where gossip spreads faster than a 5-year-old on a pogo stick.

South of the Mason-Dixon line,

home is where the Blue Ridge Mountains speak to me in tongues.

It’s where I have lived for eighty-nine years.

Home is where my heart will always rest.