Elmwood
I was struck by the irony of flying over Elmwood
Not maybe, not kinda, but very much Elmwood
As I looked down and watched my hometown
Sliding before my eyes as if it were a dream
I could make out Central Park
The “Y” towards Yates City
I quickly found the Country Club,
then the high school, then Maple Street,
The creek showed me Rose and Ash streets.
Then I saw the little snow covered dot
Where Putnam and Harrison come together.
Home.
At least what had been home,
Now just a reminder of things past
And a reminder of things future
Many of my life’s most important lessons
Were either taught or learned there.
We’ve been away from that house for seven years,
Seven years to break the bonds,
Seven years to vainly break indelible bonds,
No matter how much time,
No matter what the distance.
I think the “H” in Home is for Hope,
of dreams to be realized.
The “O” is for the open arms of Mom
who always made it better.
The “M” is for motivation
the driving force to do all we can.
But most of all, I think the “E” in home
is for Elmwood.
(c)1998 by John Lamb
No comments:
Post a Comment