Melissa-Rose Balan

Storm purrs at my feet.
My nephews run to give me a hug at the knees.
Mom’s kitchen is filled with delicious aromas.
Banane peze, vyann poul nan sòs, avèk diri ak pwa rouj
Dad’s quiet hug and kiss means so much more now a days.
My little brothers gently pat me on the head,
Because they are too grown to give me a hug.
I hug mom ten seconds longer than usual.
The best moments are talks in the kitchen.
My sister-in-law sitting at the table,
Mom running back and forth from the stove to the fridge,
And me, standing against the counter,
Smelling, feeling, and breathing in, home.