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Return To Yesteryear

There's the old house again the one you've heard so much about... 'Course it looks much smaller now and the front yard, that was our baseball field, has shrunk... Why is my stomach churning What are these tears that blind my eyes Oh, I can't bear to think upon it again... The mind shields the trembling heart The heart weeps unrepentantly

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




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Date: 1/21/2020 9:51:00 AM
This one brought back some nostalgic memories of my youth growing up on a farm in Indiana. Thank you. Also glad you enjoyed the further escapades of Cletus O'Toole & his false teeth - Bob t
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Gershon Wolf
Date: 1/21/2020 1:47:00 PM
So, you're a Hoosier, eh?! … Great people in Indiana per my experience. Worked at DaLite Move Screen Co. in Warsaw Indiana, at the junction of highways 30 and 15, back in 1969 for a summer. Enjoyed my time there a lot. Thanks for your support, Bob. Smiles, Gershon
Date: 1/21/2020 1:54:00 AM
This must have been written on the same trip as your Boaz poem. Both very touching. My growing up home street address was 2010, so in the year 2010 I went back... nothing was the same. A little disorienting, but then I shouldn't have been so surprised, I was 50 years old! Things change, the question is: can I keep up with change? Great write, friend ~ John
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Gershon Wolf
Date: 1/21/2020 1:45:00 PM
Actually, completely different trips to two completely different locales... Too long a story to explain. At any rate, you sure zeroed in on the disorientation! Thanks, John. Cheers, Gershon
Date: 1/20/2020 11:13:00 PM
lost years are cute.. But the coming are cuter.. In those lost years also, you were thinking about the lost lost years.. lol.. Great poem.. I'm homesick now..
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Gershon Wolf
Date: 1/21/2020 1:43:00 PM
Gonna have to take a trip to the lost and found! Thanks, Jenish. ~ Gershon
Date: 1/20/2020 7:40:00 PM
shame when things change so much...farm become developments, fields offices or stores... my sister and i sometimes do what we call the ghost tour and drive by our old houses and then the cemeteries are parents are in, always doing lunch at a place we grew up eating at... the changes are often heartbreaking ... good penning... hugs
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Gershon Wolf
Date: 1/20/2020 10:08:00 PM
Love what you wrote in your comment, and I get it completely, … and yet when I see pics and videos of the tremendous changes in the Israel I left 42 years ago, then WOW! I am so pleased to see them. Things are different. Much has been lost. But more has been gained, methinks. OK. Enough philosophizing. We might become poets or something. Cheers, Gershon
Date: 1/20/2020 4:29:00 PM
Hello Gershon … nothing stays the same, but it appears to change so much as the mind grows older - thanks Gershon - Lindsay
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Gershon Wolf
Date: 1/20/2020 6:53:00 PM
There you go. We change; our perceptions change -- not the external reality. ~ Gershon
Date: 1/20/2020 4:01:00 PM
Gershon, at Christmas 2017 I returned to NJ to visit and mustered the courage to drive past the house where I grew up. It had been totally remodeled, but the "live" Christmas trees my mother planted in the front yard had grown huge. Hard not to cry when memories come rushing back. Your poem is a fave for me, my friend. Hugs, Carolyn
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Gershon Wolf
Date: 1/20/2020 6:52:00 PM
Oh, thank you so much for the fave, Carolyn. Much appreciated. Warm wishes, Gershon
Date: 1/20/2020 2:48:00 PM
Funny how things are like nothing the way you remembered them Gershon. Tom
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Gershon Wolf
Date: 1/20/2020 6:51:00 PM
Exactly. Our memories tend to wear rose-colored glasses. Thanks, Tom

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