Home » Poems » J. Summers » Too Distant Woods

Too Distant Woods

My soul started yearning And my feet grew all restless To see the old hometown And the place I was born. Out back of my old house Sweet nature was waiting, The woods of my youth Were calling me home. I drove all that night And half the next morning I pulled up to our place Where strangers now lived. Things looked pretty good Till I checked out the backyard And rows of new houses Where the woods used to live. I asked an old neighbor Now gray and decrepit, Where is the oak forest Where we all used to play? He said it's all gone now Except for the memories, A big old bulldozer Has scraped them away. They put up these houses On top of each other And squeezed the old woods For each nickel and dime. The trees are all gone now Except for the memories, A big old bulldozer Has scraped them away. I got back in my car And headed for Bristol, Didn't stop driving For a night and a day. I gazed at the trees That stood on my woodlot And swore no damn dozer Would scrape them away.

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

Maurice Rigoler

Date: 4/17/2024 7:50:00 PM

I feel the same way, J. Some years ago I revisited my grandparents farm only to find it was gone, and the woods behind it were now duplexes, and the gravel road that led me into deeper woods and streams where as a boy I fished for rainbow trout – all gone as well. It's the price we pay for "progress", I suppose. / Maurice

J. Summers
Date: 4/18/2024 9:16:00 PM

Thanks for reading. Progress is important…that’s why we have memories. John

Dennis Spilchuk

Date: 4/10/2024 10:11:00 AM

Thoroughly enjoyed reading your poem. Nicely done.

J. Summers
Date: 4/12/2024 12:58:00 PM

Thanks so much Dennis, nice of you to stop by. John

Emilia James

Date: 9/8/2023 1:24:00 PM

Every where seems to be losing the green spaces and woods, it is also happening here. The people that make these decisions do not seem to build on their own door step. Pure greed every time. Save the trees and green spaces. Emilia : )

J. Summers
Date: 9/9/2023 3:24:00 PM

Hi Emilia, thanks for reading. No, those calling the shots don’t build on their own door steps. Well, I have my memories. John

Tony Hargreaves

Date: 9/2/2023 8:41:00 AM

Thanks for sharing this. I remember the green space where I live. Twas grazing sheep and much woodland and supposed to be protected land. But somehow the rules were bent to build luxury homes. The woods have gone. The lambs have gone. The wildlife was simply booted out. The name of the game here is profit and greed.

J. Summers
Date: 9/4/2023 9:09:00 AM

Thanks for reading and commenting. Thank goodness for memories. John

Speaks Volumes

Date: 8/29/2023 5:41:00 PM

Beautiful poem John. We lived in a rural part of the country and the day they knocked the last tree down behind our house, I cried, nearly blinded by the light streaming in from where those tall shade giving trees used to be. A wonderful poem John. I adore your style of handling words. Thank you so very much, I loved this poem.

J. Summers
Date: 8/30/2023 2:34:00 PM

It was a great part of my childhood until it became a 100 home subdivision. Well, people need to live somewhere. Thanks for stopping by. John

Robert Lindley

Date: 7/23/2023 11:54:00 AM

Beautiful poetry my friend. Made me think of the destruction that came to the woods at my childhood home. Sad but tis reality. We lose the things we love in this world. That is a sad part of life. Your poem gave us reality in a very fine poetic creation. God bless.

J. Summers
Date: 7/24/2023 10:58:00 AM

It was a great woods for playing. We climbed, made forts and even had a junked car or two to play in. Thanks for reading. John

Deb M

Date: 6/26/2023 3:57:00 PM

A lovely trip down memory lane J….shame the outcome was disappointing for you ….progress eh! At least you have your own woodlot to enjoy! Great poem….Debx

J. Summers
Date: 6/26/2023 5:29:00 PM

Thanks Deb for stopping in to read. At my age the birds and squirrels enjoy the trees more than I. John

Hal Deats

Date: 6/6/2023 7:36:00 AM

I appreciate the content and the quality of your poetry. Enjoyable reading. Thank you for supporting my efforts.

J. Summers
Date: 6/7/2023 1:12:00 PM

Thanks for reading. John

Jack Horne

Date: 6/5/2023 5:28:00 AM

you've expressed this so well - very moving

J. Summers
Date: 6/5/2023 8:16:00 PM

Hello Jack, thanks for stopping by. Old trees, gone but not forgotten. John

Fin Chuuk

Date: 3/17/2023 7:07:00 PM

It is sad that so many fields are barren now. What used to be lushes with greeneries now standing wide open space. Great write, J

J. Summers
Date: 3/18/2023 6:40:00 AM

So true Fin. Thanks for reading. John

Paul Bell

Date: 3/15/2023 12:15:00 PM

Progress, never quite got it myself. Nature is dying on its feet.

J. Summers
Date: 3/18/2023 6:38:00 AM

Thanks for reading and commenting. I don't quite get it myself. John

Speaks Volumes

Date: 3/11/2023 6:45:00 PM

I remember when they felled all the mighty gum trees in the bush behind our house. I stood and watched until I could watch no more, as each one fell to the ground. When they were done, the glare hurt our eyes until we became used to the shade not being there. Soon hundreds of houses appeared all we could do was despair. Your poem is wonderful.

J. Summers
Date: 3/12/2023 9:47:00 AM

Thanks so much Wendy for reading and for the comments. Lots of good memories from those woods. John

Gershon Wolf

Date: 3/4/2023 7:44:00 PM

A hefty price 'for progress' we pay -- esp. when it tinkers with magical memories... Perhaps that's just another reason why they say, 'You can't go back...' Poignantly penned, John. Thanks, Gershon

J. Summers
Date: 3/5/2023 4:36:00 PM

Thanks for reading Gershon and for the comments. Yeah, going back can be problematic but there are still some bright spots left. John