# This Place is Home (#NaPoWriMo Day 27)

This place is home —
yet so unfamiliar. These
grey clouds, the smell of
the rain, a familiar perfume
(it *is* different here).
I know this house ; it’s
so like some of the houses
I’ve lived there in. I know this
neighborhood when I’m heading
*this* way. I have memories
here that I can’t quite put
my finger on. It’s amazing
how things have changed -
the traffic and how I
see myself. Funny how
nostalgia makes me happy
and sad. Not for today,
but for that young man.
I’m grateful for him.