Home is the slam of the screen door on a summers eve.
Home is tires on gravel coming up the drive
And Dad's footsteps on the basement stairs.
Home is the scrape of a snow shovel across the driveway
And the front door sliding across a frosty stoop
And Bluegrass Saturday morning.
Home is Mom talking on the phone
And Dad reading the news aloud.
Home is popcorn popping
And birds chirping
And siblings squabbling.
No matter where you are, somethings just sound like home.
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I've been thing about home tonight. Wishing I could here these sounds with my own ears and not through Skype.
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