Coming Home to Core

When you came down the drive
all the light within the windows knew just where to shine,
and the cupboards clapped with joy,
the carpets shivered and slid themselves out low to hug your heels.

Until you came home, driving like you always do,
not too fast but like you know the way by heart,
until you came home, these walls just concealed and these floors
were cold and floating, and the roof pressed down too low.

But when you came home, all the seams loosened and shook
and held in strong, the basement warmed, the attic breathed,
and the front door opened wide like arms to hug you home.
Until you came home, no one really lived here in this house.

— VH McKinnie

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