Kristine Schomaker When people (artists, poets, songwriters, superheroes, prisoners, soldiers, sailors, lovers) think about home, most assume those are happy memories full of nostalgia, yearning, longing, safety, innocence, the smell of cookies, someone’s waiting arms, one’s own bed. But in truth it is often the opposite. Not everyone has a home, physical or permanent. Some never had one, some had a good one or a bad one and left or lost it. Home is sometimes a person or a country or a feeling or an idea and not a house at all. Some people carry theirs with them everywhere. Home is full of loved ones, or full of people who think you’re weird. Home is the only place you can finally be alone. How old were you when you left yours? Did you want to go or did someone make you? Have you been back lately, or at all? Why not? Two cats in the yard. Life used to be so hard. Fly away home. Home is where the heart is. East or west home is best. There’s no place like home. Take me home to the place I belong. You can’t go home again. She’s leaving home. Bye-bye. […]