Home

In surprise moments

stepping out from a room

or coming around a corner

I breathe home

There is a kind of home I take with me —

a comfort on the bus, and walking unknown streets,

There is the home of outlook,

the flavor with which my eyes frame everything

But this kind of home

jumps into me,

a complete surprise,

gift from the land, the air:

the scent of belonging —

not me claiming it,

it claiming me,

gathering me

calling me its own.

©Wendy Mulhern

May 30, 2015