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Memories

The lonesome whistle of a late night train
The sound of bullfrogs or a night owls screech
The melodic drip of a summer rain
These things pull me back to my town asleep

I could count the stars in the sky at night
Without smog or bright lights to drown the view
Bushes covered in fireflies glittered bright
Like golden mounds covered in misty dew

I had so many years of wasted dreams
Of where time did not move at a snail’s pace
I now know the only thing that I need
Is to return to that much simpler place

But my small town has completely vanished
Her quiet streets will never comfort me
My hope of returning have been banished
All that’s left are this old man’s memories

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Ilene Bauer

Date: 9/12/2023 1:12:00 PM

very touching, jerry! i don't think we can ever return to the places in our memories, but you've described this yearning very well...

Jerry Brotherton
Date: 9/12/2023 2:53:00 PM

I wonder, if we could return to those days, would we find they are not the way our minds remember them?

Harveen Kaur

Date: 9/11/2023 11:56:00 PM

Aha that was a good one! The thoughts conveyed by this rhyme certainly resonate with many people. I like the line - “ I had so many years of wasted dreams Of where time did not move at a snail’s pace”.

Jerry Brotherton
Date: 9/12/2023 8:59:00 AM

Thank you, my friend. I am so happy that you dropped by.