Memory Lane
For those of us stuck in the past
This is where I used to live.
This used to be my home.
See the place I used to play
Near the namesakes carved in stone.
Listen closely, do you hear?
For drifting now across the air
Are stories that were read to me
When my head was black of hair.
A perfect place to dance upon
A floor natural and pristine:
Feel the grass beneath bare feet;
Feel how soft and see how green.
This is where I used to live,
Aye, this is where I once did grow.
But fond returnings falsify
That life that I lived long ago.
For dust and cobwebs line the stones,
And the old streets are cracked and bare.
Now other lodgings I must find.
Though I know not where.
(2013)
Like I said, I grew up in a town with a large graveyard that was down the street from my house. I would go there almost every day and read and reread the graves. I know everyone buried there, how old they were, if they were a parent or sibling, if they died as a baby. But when I go back to my old town and look around at the streets and houses and woods and fields, the only thing that stayed the same is that graveyard.
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