Funny how the bricks arrange
Making cozy yet strange
House for us to call home
Place where we don’t feel so alone
Here I rock you to sleep
Thanking the bricks that kept us safe
In this new place
Your first home
Where I became your mom

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.