Poetry from The Well

Home Is Where the Thought Is

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Where will our dream go

when we’ve moved into our dream home?

I’m safe and still in this thought of a house

on a hill, where chickens pepper grass

that needs mowing.

We’re inside, us two, writing words

and dreaming of our other worlds.

At night we’ll sleep and wander

farther still, or deeper.

Outside fireflies will flicker dimly,

mimicking the sky’s starry layers.

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