Return From Afar

A decade slipped away before I saw again The quiet streets where I’d grown up. The trees’ cool shade was gone, and all which did remain Seemed tarnished and corrupt. I sat upon the bench where friends and I would meet To laugh and play our boyish game. Another crowd now filled the place, and the defeat I felt could bear no proper name. The joys I once had cherished were beyond all sight And lingered only in my mind, But I was glad that I was there, intent to write Of what I’d been allowed to find. Find my poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com