an apartment,
a condo
near the hills, near a lake.
on the border
of town, or in the city.
we take the sign down.
it's ours.
we put a mat out front,
saying home.
we buy a bed,
a couch,
a tv.
a table with chairs
to sit upon
and eat our meals.
we paint the walls,
hang pictures,
put photos of our loved
ones on the mantel.
we call it home. our home.
but in truth it's not.
it's a temporary resting
place, as all
things are in life.
it's just another bus stop
before
the bus takes off again.
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