Home
Home is the scent of the rain
Seeping softly
Through the walls of the house
Home is the sunlight
Pouring through the windows
Liquid butter
Warming the floor
And your hand in mine
Home is the sound
Of the air-con whistling
White noise swirling over our heads
As we sit over a bowl of fruit
Laughing as the juice drips
Down our fingers
Shyly meeting the sun
As the clouds concede
And the rain retreats














