Home. Funny word isn't it? Can mean so much. Maybe, too much. Or nothing at all. Just another cold night, feeling the last of sidewalk warmth. Sleeping light in fear of assault.
But then, you may know this word in your native language with its own meanings and memories.
We once (though some still do) lived in caves or trees. Constantly moving, following food. Or evading bombs. Now we may fear answering a knock or being shot.
A roof and a door, home to me. Keeps me dry and free of snakes and scorpions. Home is where the heart is? But isn't the heart wherever you are?
All creatures deserve a home. Or do we? Please, your views on having a home. Or lack of one.