Old Dirt Path
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Yet more memories of my Family home, now gone, memories exist, thank goodness for poetry.
The old dirt path that led to home
Familiar surroundings all overgrown
The home, now a shell of what was once
The picket fence in disrepair
Lay where it had fallen, needing care
A gate that welcomed family and friends
Lying on the ground, rusted hinges unable to hold
Lift the gate and place back in place
Touching the gate, strange feelings emerged
The feeling when old friends meet once again
Stand and stare, tears appeared
Children once swung on the gate
Sat on the ground and exchanged stories
Talking to the gate as old friends would
If seen by others they would shake their heads
Lonely and sad, their thoughts as they journeyed
Approach where once stood a magnificent front door
Walked into the ruins as done many times before
Looked around searching for clues
When did all this destruction take place?
No answer, just creaks and groans
I hear you, I hear you, my friends of old
A gentle breeze appeared as if called
Sitting once more, back leaning against a wall
Drained of memories of long ago.
Copyright © John A'Hern | Year Posted 2021
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