Home is where my cleat sinks into the warm, black turf.
Home is the rocky path leading up to the bright yellow door on Maple Ave.
Home is the smooth steel strings of my stickered sunburst guitar.
Home is the sweet sound of music ringing in my head.
Home is the crunch of sand in my sandwich.
Home used to be my old school Lowell.
Grade: 6
Takoma Park, MD
Washington, DC
Tim Green
Stopping climate change
My mom