The place I feel most at home in all the world
I’m sitting inside right now.
The kitchen in our home in a small midwestern
American town is my favorite place to be.
Here, I work Sunday puzzles with my son,
then create a brunch for us all.
Here, I write in the dappled morning light with my daughter,
birdsong trilling through the window behind us.
Here, I create meal plans, menus, and grocery lists,
store those groceries and cook those meals.
Here, the seedlings that will later fill our gardens,
feed our family, grow upon wide windowsills.
Here, we gather for meals, games, jokes, stories, and songs,
any time night or day.
All traffic in our home leads here,
and here, in farmhouse coziness
here is where I will stay.