“Our Voices” Exhibition Celebration 05.02.20

Home by Definition by Natasha Borton

Home –

the place where we live permanently.

The carpet curls at the edges,

steeped in time.

Absentmindedly put down a mug of tea,

upon a table that is always where I need it to be,

against a window tap of trees that were there before the house was built, before everyone got settled and made home.

What does it take to become less?

as a member of a family

       even the armchair sighs.

The backdoor opens into a brisk hello.

A pile of discarded shoes become an avalanche.

You can’t see the wood for the roots around here,

Grandson’s and cousins fall around each other,

Spring green and fearless, as Aunties succumb to autumn.

How lucky we are to grow together.

Whether the people we are born to, or

the ones we discover along the way. Family

is the pause after a long walk home.

What does it take to become less?

Someone’s place of origin

I was born round here.

My first kiss was below a flickering streetlight,

the night was long and lingering

but I wouldn’t go home until I’d tried.

I lied; I hadn’t done it all before.

Just the memory makes you smile,

No-one speaks ‘round here, no-one stops,

At least the past has time to talk of home.

What does it take to become less?

Somewhere you belong.

I grew-up round here

       like picking-up the line to an old friend,

A bit familiar, a bit distant now

A bit rough around the edges,

but it’s close.

It comes back to me in moments,

when I think of home.

What does it take to become less?

Homeless – 

without a home

Cardboard walls falling together like leaves, braced against the wind. In between the gaps fingerless gloves curdle into themselves. Time moves by as slowly as yesterday.

Without belonging? Without permanence? Without family? Without shelter?

Just humans looking for home.