What Is Home

Home

A poem

Is it a place?

Or is it a space?

Maybe an embrace

I think I know

I may not show

You where or who

It’s not you boo

“Home is where the heart is,”

Or so the saying goes and for some ‘tis

For some “It is wherever I lay my hat,”

“That’s my home” and then again,

That is just a song, his hat could be put in a wagon.

I suppose some would call a wagon home like a wagon train.

All the westerns I’ve seen, I just wonder how that could feel like home, what about the rain?

When I’m asked where home is, I say White Earth nation

The largest in Minnesota, the reservation.

Many of my family are there, even though, my enrollment is removal Fond du Lac

My people originally came from there, and I still have many family there in fact.

So then, is that home? It does have something to do with land

I would never want to live anywhere except Minnesota and

A few others I’ve known have said, their bones were cold all the time, you know

When living in Minnesota, until they got home to New Mexico and Colorado.

I never want my children or grandchildren to leave Minnesota

I told a grandson to please not have my grandchildren in California

Then I told him I heard California is falling into the ocean soon

And that the earthquakes will take it one afternoon

Not nice of me and I know, and he knows I was just joking

At least I think I was just kidding.

I believe I am home with my husband, family and friends in this state

I don’t have any wishes to go anywhere else except maybe on a date

I think home is this land of 10,000 lakes

The wild rice, the walleye, berries, and venison it makes

Too much to replace all of this and nowhere can

What more can I say except I know I’m home man!