I see my home as a space somewhere between what was and what is possible.
I know of no other such place.

My home opens its door to anyone who wants to share their truth.
I will stay home that day to welcome them.
We'll have caviar and peanut butter sandwiches.
We might write awhile and then read to each other
here in my home.

I have a dog named Betsie Ann.
She loves visitors.
She doesn't like caviar;
she would rather have pizza.
So would I.

I like my home because it's small.
Big no longer appeals to me.(fewer things; fewer problems).

I like my home because it is my refuge.
Curling up by the fire with a glass of wine is healing.
That's what my home really is...
a place for healing.

My home is my proof that I can stand alone.
I can feel at peace.
I can begin again.
I have survived.