This Town
A new wind has set in the sails,
my stride it seems hangs
in wait
the old world charm now denounced
I feel like a stranger in this
known town
From familiar faces
to known names
I see but scores
running in circles encaged,
enraged, and somewhere bereft
of the concrete
this town abounds...
A few new roads in old directions
heading straight to
known abjections
with more and more passengers
inhabiting it for the day...
Through the good and mean bends
and all the in-between trends,
lying in wait of some miracle
wishing you were here...
The open windows and ticking clocks
and all the empty seats
at the bus stops
Where have all the journeymen gone,
perhaps they found their new grounds
This town, is like any other town
slowly breathing while others frown
Once the cynosure of batting eyelids,
now fast merging with the
leveled grounds
The relics of the those old fools
the place we grew up,
our everyday schools
the doors ajar,
their fields no longer clay
barren and frosted in time,
living on for another day...
The wee small hours
of the morning,
that's the time you miss the most,
the milkman's arrival, the butter toast
and the morning dew on your shoes...
What insipid belongings can you possibly take,
everything, everyone's already gone...
along with the lasting seasons of treasure
and the keys to those childhood songs
With everyone gunning for a change,
memories seem regressive at times,
where do you go looking for things,
you never knew you were to find...
Hope is for those waiting to see
this old town as their new family
Oh, visitor, come knock at any door anytime,
all these streets have waited the longest time
and before you turn around in haste,
do remember,
this uprooted town lives in your wake...
