Blank Sweet Blank

where is the area

cows like to nap?

chickens to roost?

ladybugs flap?

the one

that you run to,

stretch at,

and bat?

a site

that’s well-lighted

>vacant or not<

& fragrant

with bacon

the breadwinner brought,

& basted on fires

kept burnin’ so hot?

a place

that’s unmatched

–but found

when away–

a space for your heart

to call it a day,

a’state

–that has gates

but never a saint?

a locale

that’s free–

yet nothing to note,

a castle for he,

but still her abode,

a stead

where your head

has bed

& zip code?

what’s that?

do these hints

make you want

to explode?

I’ll close, then,

the prose, when

you figure out poem

–work it out now

or bring

it on home…