Homebody

I don’t want to go to Rome,

or Australia, or even Tennessee.
I have work to do right here at home
and that’s all right with me.

I want to sit in my same old chair,

lie down in my same old bed,

stay on the porch and stare

as the sunset turns the sky red.

Go without me, Betsy. I’ll help pack!
Have fun, mail a postcard or two,
and whenever you get back,
I’ll fix some venison stew.