Williamsville, New York- by Teri H Hoover
the old farm on a hill became a treeless street
that grew a home on every half acre-
our home facing east
half way between
the very top and the very bottom of the hill.
From my bedroom window on the second floor
I would watch the clouds and pretend they were the ocean.
Part3: Welcome Home – Marie and I ask you to write your poem using your childhood home as inspiration. Be descriptive and paint your imagery as colorfully as you can. What color was your house? How was the neighborhood? Did you have a favorite room; hiding places? Wall paper or paint? – What memory of your home is the strongest for you? We will deal with the people in your home in later prompts. Right now, just give us a glimpse of where you lived. Include all you need to make us feel at home.