Caitlin Wanichek

the smell of the little gas station across the street and around the corner


the touch of a mothers arms enclosed around me

meeting my chest to hers 

the thump of her heart beat


the reassurance that I’m doing the best I can


the taste of sweet, chocolatey, homemade brownies 

that melt in your mouth


his hand in mine

and his gentle lips connecting to mine


the blare of music pumping through my headphones

or my grandma reading to me 

as I lay on the couch beside her


fresh rain 

and the warmth of the sun beaming down on me

as I take a walk with my dog


that is my home.