Going Home
There are places that connect us to our past
Points of anchor which once linked us to known havens
Those forms, reflections printed on our hearts
Evoke forgotten times as icons graven
And flag an instant signal, when we roam,
That we are nearing, once again, our home
There’s one such image ever in my mind
That long chalk ridge, a back-cloth to my youth
Like table, bare, where ancestors once dined
The shape with a simplicity of truth
It’s presence - a sensation visceral
Revealed in every upward glance peripheral
I will, time to time revisit loved location
The noble downland poised o’er fertile vale
To know again that sense of exultation
Well remembered image tells familiar tale
Then one day some time hence I’ll rise thereon
And stay ‘til winds scatter dust, and I move on.
Copyright © Geoffrey Brewer | Year Posted 2018
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