The Past Far Removed

My dad used to talk of Texas

With a forlorn look and a wistful voice.

He’d remark on the expanse of the land,

Quickly damning the multitude

Of Virginia and loblolly pines 

Obstructing his view.

Yet, I think, on his trips back to the Lone Star,

The pull of the openness was never strong enough

To leave the confines of those sweet Virginia breezes.

My nostalgic trip back to the historic roots of my youth

Took off this week

When I learned that the parent of a student and I

Went to the same elementary school.

Coincidently, the This Is Your Life momentum 

Continued when a different student informed me that

I went to high school with his uncle.

The news back home,

As reported by Google,

Was splattered with names

Of people I remember playing four square 

Or hanging out with by the river.

Now they were involved with ordinances and liquor laws.

Like my father, though, there’s no real pull to return,

I’m a stranger in my hometown.

Development has removed most of what I remember.

Besides, my life just off the corridor is great

With a family I love and a desired complacency

That has pushed aside longings for those southern nights.

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