Thinking about all the places we’ve lived over the
years, I also remembered, given the circumstances,
just how easy it was to find yourself without a home.
The poet, Robert Frost, said that home was where they
had to take you in, words that stayed with me.
ALL TOGETHER, NOW!
If only I could sing that song again,
The old girl said to her reflection.
You know, the one about having
A safe place to live in.
Though, obviously, that’s not happening
Still, opening her mouth,
She tried a few notes.
Doh and Ray, anyway.
Admittedly, with a bit of a quaver,
Until, settling in,
She sang about home.
That place where the poet said
They had to take you in.
‘Not in my experience,’ the old girl sighed,
Then fell silent, considering.
At last, pushing aside
All her quavering and quivering,
Went on with her gravelly old singing,
Really getting into her stride.
Fearlessly singing the Blues on her lonesome,
Until, hustling up to the chorus,
She flung her arms wide.
‘All together, now!’ she cried,
And a thousand, thousand voices sang
‘If only we had a home to be home in.’
© Gwen Grant