Another brilliant piece from a GUNNAS WRITING MASTERCLASS writer
What is a house, what’s built of bricks and mortar?
What is a home, where the heart really is?
Now going home is making way toward her:
Have we “domestics”? Or domestic bliss?
I may have thought that there’d be more bad habits,
I may have thought I’d get more chance to roam,
For now, the main idea when we cohabit
Is that I always feel like I’m at home.
They say that home’s where charity commences
And that, like home, there’s just no other place.
Life goes on, behind so-called picket fences:
We rewrite our idea of sharing space.
This house and home, where my heart lives, is here:
In this freestanding house of brick veneer.