tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7357199451052416763.post2225863967574927900..comments2023-10-24T06:55:48.859-07:00Comments on HERE, WHERE I AM: Home AgainKathryn Stripling Byerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17867152753841610044noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7357199451052416763.post-79890049427055370832008-06-23T11:21:00.000-07:002008-06-23T11:21:00.000-07:00Glad you're back, Kay. I am so sorry to hear about...Glad you're back, Kay. I am so sorry to hear about your uncle.<BR/><BR/>I know how you feel about the dual calls of home. When we head for Georgia to visit my mother-in-law, it feels like going home. Then, the feeling is just as real, if not more so, coming back to the mountains. I guess it's possible to have home in two locales.Susan M. Bellhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02925109035133133812noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7357199451052416763.post-1148769993182717332008-06-22T17:14:00.000-07:002008-06-22T17:14:00.000-07:00what a treat your poems are! I've been visiting th...what a treat your poems are! I've been visiting this blog every day in hopes of finding another helping of poetry to feed my soul. And now, today, a feast! Thank you kindly! We're glad you're back!Vicki Lanehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08114677510459055768noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7357199451052416763.post-40992229670159161022008-06-22T12:51:00.000-07:002008-06-22T12:51:00.000-07:00Whether it was good or bad-home calls. Loved the p...Whether it was good or bad-home calls. Loved the poem-sorry about your uncle.Tipperhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11714281090985487356noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7357199451052416763.post-50253747030202709002008-06-22T11:43:00.000-07:002008-06-22T11:43:00.000-07:00We missed you. So Sorry about your uncle. The poem...We missed you. So Sorry about your uncle. <BR/>The poem sings to me of home. But home is not what I remember anymore. Home is gone now that Mother and Daddy are gone. And soon it will belong to someone else entirely.<BR/>But driving down those flat roads, seeing all the pecan groves, the fields planted in crops, fills me with memories that bring the tears.Glenda Council Beallhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04778241689968750316noreply@blogger.com