The Old Home Place

I look in the old hand-held mirror that I’ve stuck up on the wall. I glance quickly behind me, wondering if my mother is behind me and it’s her image that I see.

I come to the old homeplace sometimes. I can feel the ghosts here so no wonder I think my mother has crept up on me. I sneak in the back door so no one will see me.

My childhood is here. I can hear it. My parents are talking softly in the kitchen. I sit down in the old rocking chair and wish for days gone by.

Photo credit @TedStultz


  1. I love the term “home place.” My Southern ancestors called their homes this. Nice mood!


    1. I grew up in the South and still live in a border state. I’ve heard the term “home place” all my life from grandparents and my mother. It is a very southern term. Thank you and thanks for the comment!


  2. All the love and happy memories she remembers just seem to have been absorbed by the house. No wonder she sneaks back to her “old home place.” 🙂


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