this place i call home
it’s a long day and a drive home
into the setting sun and dusk
as i pull up in front of my house,
stand at the curb,
and look at this place
i call home…
a soft glow emanates
from the porch light,
revealing an old rocker
and the plain grapevine wreath
that hangs on the wall behind it
i realize this simple facade
is a postage stamp
on the letter of my life…
a statement of who i am
and where i live…
my shelter and my refuge…
where i rest and lay my head…
and it’s all i need…
this place i call home…
by Sylvia L. Mattingly, March 25, 2021
Crooked Creek by Sue Mattingly 
Thank you Syl.
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She is such a beautiful person. I love reading her poetry and thoughts.
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