There's a road in the mountains
overgrown in back hills
in places where pavement
comes dangerously close
to being smooth

This road winds to
childhood to this secret
hideout suspended in time

We wave here at strangers
who are life-long friends ~ children
of parents who grew up together
danced at prom together
and hid from their parents together
at the general store no longer there

We fill our hearts
with the comfort
of family saving room
for homemade ice cream
dripping from the porch swing

As we inspect cracked
panelling and peeling paint
and that which strains
to contain the detailed
imperfection trapped
beneath chipped and warped
shingle-covered walls

Concealing the snake
which lurks just out
of reach of skittish cats

1 comment:

vickyb said...

Sounds like home to me. :)