Association must be the name of the game!
I find myself approaching my home town.
I'm blown away by the immediate onset of
memories; Main Street, A & W Root Beer,
Dairy Queen, the baseball field, those sweet,
little fifties houses.
My mind is filled with a kaleidoscope of
scenes and scents, colors and conversations.
I feel a sense of regression coming on and
I want to stop for an ice cream cone. I find
myself in the stadium, looking down on the
crowd and players. I can hear the shouts,
the cheers.
All of a sudden, we are driving by my folks
home, the one dad built for mom. I become
aware my face is wet and I try to act as if
nothing were wrong. Trying to pull myself
together, I see my brother on his evening
walk, his seeing-eye dog by his side.
Make no mistake, there is a part of me that
wishes to turn around and go home . . .
funny that . . . thought I was coming home.
Ah, there's my girl's house. I'm going to
buck up and enjoy the hell out of that gal!
find im twixt and tween
alas can never go home
beyond missing you
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