Return From Afar
A decade slipped away before I saw again
The quiet streets where I’d grown up.
The trees’ cool shade was gone, and all which did remain
Seemed tarnished and corrupt.
I sat upon the bench where friends and I would meet
To laugh and play our boyish game.
Another crowd now filled the place, and the defeat
I felt could bear no proper name.
The joys I once had cherished were beyond all sight
And lingered only in my mind,
But I was glad that I was there, intent to write
Of what I’d been allowed to find.
Find my poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com
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