Where the Heart Is

 Middle May,

I drive away

in my little silver Dodge.

Sun so hot it bites my skin,

As I bite my lip

to hold the tears.

Home Sweet Home,

But now it's gone.

I'll miss it every day.

Red shutters on a yellow house

morph into brown and gray.

New ward,

new things,

But they all seem old and dry.

New bench,

and every Sunday,

silently I cry.

New people,

no friends,

I walk the streets alone.

This isn't where my heart belongs,

I no longer live at home.

Middle June,

I drive by

my old house on 110.

In the window,

I can see,

all the walls are painted tan.

The colors are gone,

and so is my home,

I'm missing a part of me.

I must be the first to live in a house

So completely homelessly.