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Poem
Going Home
I went home again, at last
   just after the mid March winter blast,
   as many years had slipped into the past
   lost too often to both time and memory aghast.

Roads no longer seemed that familiar
   sight and scene made me quiver
   so much had changed, empty and dissimilar.

The old haunts of my time long gone
   torn down and replaced for a song
   erased and today unknown, so wrong.

Ah yes, some things, some markings remain
   with distinctly different looks and names.
   I guess nothing ever stays the same.

Perhaps the old saying is more than true
   and there is no going back
   for every me and you
   in search of what we miss or lacked.

Even the old homestead looks bland
   one of the few memories that still stand,
   remodeled, repainted, reshaped by newer hands.

So swift the years have raced by,
    autumn, winter, spring, summer skies
    moved like picture shows with us aside.

Some places go unrecognized
   trees removed with nothing left to hide
   only strip malls to fill the wavy tide.

The buildings long displaced
   covered by graffiti and defaced
   with views of the traffic stop go race.

How often have we bid goodbye
   to the youthful playgrounds of our lives;
   and as the veil is slowly lifted
we finally find
  how blessed we were and gifted.

All the places of those last fifty, sixty, seventy years
  once brought both happiness and tears
  is but a memory well marked in time right here
  within the heart loved and cheered.

If I close my eyes, I can still see
  my grandmother standing beneath the tall Christmas tree
  at the foot of my home’s steps waiting 
waiting patiently,   for me.

Though many years have passed
   and the scenes change far too fast,
   the memories are a lasting gain
   are the rewards for which I aimed
in having seen the world as smaller
   taking in its lessons learned by scholars;
 home is what we most treasure
   and it is the ultimate goal by which
   our lives are measured.
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