Love Poem: What Is Home
Vladimir Tumanov Avatar
Written by: Vladimir Tumanov

What Is Home

What is home? Please, stop and ponder. Is it walls of which we’re fonder than of any safe enclosure where we keep our cool composure? Is it ceilings, doors and floors? But those things you find in stores and in offices and schools, in asylums meant for fools. What is home? I ask again. Just a hiding place from pain? But a haven from life’s storms? Could be so… but campus dorms — even rooms by weekly rates — offer shelter from the Fates. What is home? It’s not a lot. I can tell you what it's not: not a place and not a time; not a word and not a rhyme; not your rent and not your food; not your sleep or gloomy mood. Well, I’ve kept you in suspense. Talking nonsense? Talking sense? Time to crack the envelope. Time for what we call 'straight dope.' What is home?
In my plain view, home is very simply… you.