Hugs at the Door (day 569)

A comfy chair places me at home
Wrinkles that each tell a story
Smile back at me, or
Crease as I sit amongst the pillows

Memories float through the air
Of a time long gone now

It’s funny how we remember things
Like they were just yesterday
Sometimes the memories
Are built into photographs

Slightly raw on the edges
Handled for years

I think the biggest prize
Of all the nooks and crannies
That is found at home
Is in the heart that hugs me at the door

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