Home

There’s a corner so small

That fit me perfectly

In my childhood home

Where I loved to be

There’s a smell

Of what?

I can no longer tell

But it comforted me

There are places that I know

I’ll never again see

Circumstances

That I wished have gone differently

There are pieces scattered

Along the Mediterranean sea

Pieces of me

Still stuck in a small corner

Of a childhood home

Where life played out

Perfectly

Childhood Mornings

I remember when I was maybe eleven.I had to wake up as early as seven, rush to the neighborhood baker. He made our street smelled like heaven. The fresh bread gives me warmth on my morning walk. And a lady sitting in the street, selling something to eat. Breakfast routine that I love to remember. Memories of early December.