My Hometown
Small, cut in half by Route Sixty-Six,
with farms and ranches scattered around.
Theaters, cafes, motels, your picks
Saturdays, everyone came to town.
What fun walking down crowded Main Street.
giving a farm boy a furtive glance.
Then movies, popcorn, something sweet
to watch Fred and Ginger glide and dance.
The tranquil aura of peacefulness,
of hometown, friends, and a picture show.
We didn't think of days that would pass
and our small town we would soon outgrow.
One day, we all left to find our dreams,
farms dried up with recurring drought.
Town forgotten in I-Forty's schemes,
the town withers within and without.
Our last reunion, old times we share,
sunshine, laughter, tears we can still find
in boarded stores, steets beyond repair
in our small hometown we left behind.
Copyright © Ann Peck | Year Posted 2023
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