Prompt: Write about your home without mentioning your house, town, or street. –Natalie Goldberg


Home. Home is where doves dive and trees dance and creatures bump in the night underneath a full moon that I. Am. Looking. At. Home is where I turn into myself and hate myself and love myself. Home. It has been where I love and where I scold others. There is fire there, and ice. The stars say I should built it near water–that I am like the otter. I oblige. Home is larger than a bread box but modest yet. Home.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s