My Home

 

In a town I once knew

By a river and wood

Stands a house from before I first cried

In the creaking of the windows:

Those whispers I know

And can hear all the way in Ohio

 

And I’m falling now

But the dirt cannot catch me

Because those memories hold my hands still

There are those who say

That what’s done is done

But my heart still lives in that shaded home

 

By the rivers and woods

Where my small feet once stood

When I didn’t care that the highway roared by us

 

And now they say

That the river is dry

And the trees were blocking the parking lot views

So, though I can hear

I can no longer find

That home and that life I once left behind

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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