Home Poem

Home feels like The warmth of my my bed . It feels Like going Outside when The chickens Have not been Fed. Hearing the Loud rooster Crow gives Me a warning, That there is Not much Time left till Morning. Watching the leaves on the maple tree change colour, Light green, To bright orange, and Yellow. Going out in The backyard To roast a Marshmallow. The smell of The sizzling Medium rare Steak, cooking On the grill. Taste like a one hundred Dollar bill. Watching Movies in The loft, late At night. I Should go Put the chickens in their coop, Or the coyotes will bite. As I hop Into bed And turn Off my Light. I Call up My mom To say Goodnight.