Where is Home?

My mom died two years ago.
With her gone,
I lost my home.

I fly to the land where she lived,
and it’s barren,
Mute,
Sterile.

My mother was my garden.

Without her, there is
no water,
no soil.

Nothing but a thin veil of moisture
between her and me.

I stretch my arm to touch her
and feel her absence
as much as I did her presence.

Mom is gone.
Where is home?