home

the sound of the rain

on those rare summer nights

when i can sleep to my favorite song

a white dog

that was once small and almost all black

sleeping by my feet

breathing slowly

turning belly up

the pictures on the wall

the first one from a few years ago

the last christmas grandpa was alive for

my mom gave me the camera

wrapped in pretty red and green paper

the last one from graduation

with friends i haven’t seen in a few months

i never got to fill the entire wall

the orange candles

i used to lit every night

to write in that journal with a fancy ink pen

all the things i hoped for tomorrow.

tomorrow

is here

and home

becomes there

becomes then

becomes a memory

of summer rain, a sweet dog

orange candles, fancy pens

old pictures, old friends

home becomes a memory

then, there, once

and sometimes,

when it’s too cold outside

memories become home

here, now,

always.