Remember when
we walked the Glen
down to the Manor
and back again
just passersby
to grass and sky
with inlet smiles
and sunlit eyes
Cicada rhythms
danced through the trees
the Sakonnet rolled
out to the sea
that world embraced
both you and me
Remember when
we walked no more
stopped skipping stones
along the shore
we buried secrets
in closet walls
dodged each other
in narrow halls
Glen strolls replaced
by trips to malls
by all-day meetings
and late-night calls
We lost ourselves
and raised the kids
crossed some lines
and hit the skids
then peeled apart
as our parents did
Mundanity paved over love
harsh words gave way
to push and shove
our home became
a handless glove
Does love lie dormant
at the Glen
under rotting leaves
and muddied Zen
or is Wolfe’s
“You can’t go home again”
as true as dirt and oxygen
where the fireflies
we choose to chase
are snuffed
by Moirai’s cold embrace?
If you haven’t had a chance yet, please check out my book, My Paper, My Words: Rantings from a Progressive Boomer and Peeved Parent, from Amazon. And if you feel moved to write a review of the book, on Amazon, or anywhere else, I’d be honored.
My Paper, My Words is a collection of essays, stories, and poems that reflect the challenges of a middle-class husband and father trying to navigate a rapidly changing political, religious, and technological landscape of post-911 America.
bendingtheneedle 