revisiting home of my youth
I used to dream of jumping off that tall railing on our front porch
We stopped the car, and I approached it, smiling
It was less than two feet off the ground
This seemed incredulous
When I was jumping off, I thought it was a mile high
the grass needed mowing
my parents would have never allowed these weeds
it looked like a snake haven
I was sure I might step on one
there was a refrigerator on this porch; did hillbillies live here?
When my parents were alive, they always wanted to come visit.
I was glad they had not.
They would have been disgusted with this place now.
We had kept it tidy and neat.
The screen door made the creaking noise I remembered.
“What do you want?”
A fitting ending to a disappointing day.
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