From after 3 flights, 3 cab drives, 2 train rides…

I stepped into a home….a home away from home. 

I arrived with myself, baggage lost….

Like after a long evening walk. 

Warm food welcomed me, to remind me….

Home is where the hearth is. 


Notes- new numbers. 

Lanes- new turns. 

Trees- new flowers. 

Memories- new maps.  


I graduated 

From friend 

To a co-performer in domestic rituals. 

Food had to be cooked, clothes to be washed, 

Floors to be mopped, life to be loved. 

I learnt…that space has to be split, spliced and spruced

For time to be constructed, created and co-habited. 


Stove- new knobs. 

Onions- new knives. 

Laundry- new coins. 

Me- new togetherness.  


The waterfront shaped a new hue, 

Sights, sounds and souveniers 

Either maple-dipped or maritime-minted. 

Walks didn’t need voices, neither boat ride any speed. 

The lighthouse didn’t need a shared view, 

For each act of viewing was true. 


Moo- new ice-cream. 

Boat- new lighthouse. 

Hammock- new sunshine. 

Self- new connections.