Curious: about the place I’d grown up in.
tracing the route I’d take,
juvenile on bicycle or blade,
or foot with my childhood best
friend, sometimes alone, out to the swimming pool;
railroad tracks, sugarhouse,
chlorine, adventure between
classes; the library,
new as it was to me; infinite
It used to be on a corner across the park on
but now, a neglect of nook within
that field we’d fly kites across. Gone.
The change I
cannot justify. Continue reading