Never have I been further
from my youth
then when I returned to
the scene of it
places, people, things change
time, people, lives elapse
Going home is a
metaphor smorgasbord;
abandoned cabin overgrown
with woods, withered by age
dirt roads now paved
familiar sights still sturdy
though showing some age
roadside greasy spoons now
trendily featuring salads
locals speak of ‘amenities’
Places grow up, people change
or vice versa; who can tell?
Sedentary in its change
the place you knew as home
always will be, though you
can’t live there anymore.
Ponderable polemics, poetic 