The House.

Across the world,

But remembered

Like it’s just down the street.

Turn a corner near the school

And it’ll be there,

Waiting patiently

For us to return home.

But really it’s hundreds

Of thousands of miles away

In another country

My mother country

Waiting patiently

For us to return home.

The quaint kitchen,

Two kids seated at the barstools

As mama and Asher cooked

Zoe always taste-testing

And Caleb doing homework

The kitchen sits,

Dark and gray,

Waiting for someone to turn on the light

To cause a smell to waft through

To be filled with life again.

The big backyard,

Kids rushing around,

Climbing trees

Jumping high on a trampoline

Setting up games

The activity center

The Sun shining bright, watching over us

The same way it does now,

In the same sky,

Except it doesn’t feel the same at all.

That House.

Sitting on that street,

At the top of the hill

Old and lonely

Waiting for our family

To come home.

But all I can do

Is look up at the sky

And think of how

It’s the same sky above that house

Knowing that’s the closest

I’ll ever get to being home.

Even if my siblings return to me

Even if we live in the same house

Even if one of us starts a family

That’s the closest

We will get

To being home.