Our First Christmas Home
The first tree, and the first address worth putting on something.
The first tree, and the first address worth putting on something.
You did not grow here. You still ended up home.
Everything in this house started as something she planted.
For the person you would pick again, and the track that knew it first.
For the song that still means the same thing it did that year.
The photo she would have picked herself, and the line you have never quite said out loud.
Two routes, one hallway, and nobody checked the schedule.
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