Poem #1: home

• My home smells like old house mixed with the faint smell of dog, along with something cooking. 
• People work on computer, a pencil and pen writing on a page, or a book in front of them.  
• People gather in the kitchen or very back room on the bottom floor. 
• Laurel ave. and prior 
• somtimes you hear the yelling of people or frustrated noises of a french man and long sighs from his wife. 
• 10pm on a Saturday night you hear the tv on some gory show and the growling and barking of a little dachshund worried that her owners will be taken away.  
• important historical figures or events is 
• slang you hear is mostly french or english and somtimes both mixed. 
• i fear of not meeting my parents and my own goals. 
• they hope for a good life for me. 

 

My home changes with her my family goes. 

When you enter there's the smell of old house mixed with the faint smell of dog and cooking. 

You will see people furiously typing away like their racing, the sound of pencil hitting paper, and pages of a school book turning. 

In the cold winter days you find people around the kitchen where the heat of the stove warms the room. 

Where you find all this is on Laurel ave and Prior, and the house with the red door. 

On days where it seems like a storm has decided to stay right above our house you hear a frustrated french man and the sighs of his wife. 

The fear in the house is like a cliff, where you hear the whispers about college and money all around.  But there's always someone to bring you away from the edge. 

If you look in on a Saturday night at 10pm you see a french man, his wife and his daughter in front of the TV watching some show while the wife comments about how weird it is. then tries and calms the nervous little dachshund who thinks something will taker her owners away. 

Like a map my family travels life pondering and wondering, so my home goes where my family goes.