I see the radiance of the sun glistening through the trees

I drink in the deep, rolling hills to my left and right

I smell the freshness of the virgin Ozark air

I’m Home.

I feel the weight of the hills in my stomach as I ride through the country

I hear the gravel crunching beneath our tires as we pull into the driveway

I catch Scooter nipping at my ankles when I step out of the van

I’m Home.

I hear the cows bantering in the fields beyond the rusty barbed wire

I smell the biology of cow manure as I climb the gate

I feel the burning agony of poison ivy on my skin

I’m Home.

I hear the lonely, green glow of the creek water

I feel the moss beneath my feet that makes its home on the Big Rock

I feel the rush of water as I jump into my ice-cold reflection

I’m Home.

I hear the proud singing of the saccades at sundown

I spot the fireflies lighting for just a moment and then fading away

I smell the dead air of the downstairs basement crawl beneath my bones

I’m Home.

I head grandma yell, “Sarah Jean!” just the way I like it

I head Grandpa’s cowboy boots clicking down the hallway in the morning

I hear Grandma saying, “Skip-a-rope”, as she lays down her UNO card


I see Grandma and Grandpa waving in their pajamas as we drive away

And then I open my eyes and realize home was a long time ago

But I realize I can always go home

If I just shut my eyes.