Summer has begun, unofficially, so for all those high school graduates of 2020, this one’s for you.  This summer might be the last summer to go crazy, the last summer to have fun, to have zero responsibilities before you step into your college dorm this fall.  Moving away from home is scary, and if you’re looking for poetry that seems to understand your fear, this might help.

“If You Were a Person”

Broken teeth and small voice
Calling me back home,
With your miss-matched tin hat
That left me all alone—
If you were a person,
You’d be more than the brick,
The melted down candles
With a frayed black wick.
Open arms, umbrellas
To shield the loud storms
And hold me as close as
A baby just born.
The dripping faucet drips,
Drooling in your sleep,
And creaking floors that creak,
Your underground weeps.
If you were not a house,
You’d be my person,
Not the very thing I deserted.

Leaving home–it is inevitable.  All the broken-down parts of your house is what makes it home, so when you step out of your front door for the last time–whether you’re moving to college, getting your own place, or selling your childhood house–remember those squeaky floors and faded metal roofs; a new house might be better, but it will always lack the nostalgia your old home gave you.  Carry that memory in your coat pocket for as long as you live.  Always hear the turn of your door knob, because no matter where you are in this world or how happy you are, home is always home.