This poem was written for my dear friend Debra Van Prigby Digby as she is feeling a bit sad today.

What is a home, is it four walls and a door?
For me, I think it is a little bit more.
I think it is somewhere you can be yourself.
Somewhere you can put a much read book upon a shelf.
Your pillow on your bed.
Pictures of loved ones on the walls above your head.
Laughter and love that never ends
Special moments created by family and friends.
If it is my home there has to be
someone singing or
playing the piano
blending everything into a potpourri.
That is what home means to me.
a place that lives on in memory.

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