Friday

I want to go home.

Home to a life of security.
Home to a life of being outdoors.
Wandering in the woods,
Picking flowers.
Two tracking around in my pickup truck.
Walking the beach at the bay.
Riding around on my snowmobile in the sun.
Taking a four-wheeler anywhere I want to explore.
Laying down on my bed,
Looking out the window,
Hearing football in the living room.
The smell of a roast in the oven.

I miss home.