You Can’t Go Home Again

Windmills (16)

This past summer I visited the hills where I spent a good part of my childhood.  Fond memories of roaming free on horseback came to mind, but when I arrived I was met with fences and locked gates, big red “No Trespassing” signs, and the crushing realization that you really can’t go home again.  That sobering visit inspired this poem, originally published on my other blog, koppinganattitude

ELEGY TO A CHANGING WORLD

I remember when the land was free and unfettered,
When uncluttered earth rose up to kiss the boundless sky.
Fields of grain rode the swells
And swirled around verdant islands tucked into the hillsides.
Summer winds played, unharnessed and untamed, over open slopes
And carelessly cast themselves off the mountaintops into space.

I remember when, once upon a time,
I found solace among these hills and fields and sky.
The air smelled fresh and sweet,
“Civilization” lay miles behind,
Simplicity ruled,
And I could breathe.

Now “progress” and “technology” blot the terrain,
And the land I once called home deems me a trespasser,
Warning me away with signs that proclaim I am no longer welcome.
If only I could edit these behemoths off the landscape as out of a picture. . .
But such power eludes me, and I can only look on as, mute and defiant, they stand,
Their proud blades raking the sky.

I remember when. . .and I weep.

Windmills (1)

© Everthedreamer, 2015 Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without written permission from the author is strictly prohibited.  Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given.

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