Life On the Frontier

Home is a place you make. We’ve learned the neighbors’ names. They sound different than ours. 

His hands were always a sea of calluses. I can’t remember them any other way. 

We had only what we needed once. Happiness snuck up and found us here. 

More than a touch, not quite a caress. 

They’re leaving now. He says to a better land.

Home is a place you make. These are just the boards and nails and prairies we thought we deserved. Home feels different now.

 

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