the door, like an old man, creaks
the swollen window groans
the spotted walls frown at me
sniffle and snort the cobwebbed corners
dank and grimy it is inside
layers of dust on the floor
they’ve preserved my footprints-
stepping outside.
*
cautiously, gingerly
lest the grime sully
my pristine white dupatta
I step inside
inhale the musty air
choke and cough
and yet, after years,
I am home.
This is wow!
Home is where the heart is. There’s no better place than home n how simply and beautifully you’ve said it 💚💚
Thank you! <3
Amazing! Home sweet home. 💚💚
Thank you!
Lovely poem Seema!
Thank you so much!
Amazing the last line was lit✨
Thank you so much!
Oh my God!!! This is so evocative.. Loved it!
A lovely poem Seema!
Thank you!
Perhaps, her pristine white dupatta says that she has made good of the years that she has been away, (in terms of material riches), and yet she hasn’t found a greater peace anywhere else. Beautiful and so poignant.
Yes, she has been away from this house for a few years and despite being dusty and grimy it is the only place where she feels at home.
Thank you, Moonmoon.
Childhood homes can’t be forgotten. Lovely poem
Not really a childhood home, ma’am. She’s returning to this place after a few years and despite being dusty and grimy it’s the only place which makes her feel at home.
Thank you for reading.
Lovely poem!💚
Thank you!
Wow,beautiful poem