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Reoccurring Dream

Going through the rooms
Of that old place
Still fresh as yesterday
Looking for things lost
Trying to stop the past
Forty some years too late

Once again I climb the steps
Go through the covered porch
Sharp to the left my old room
Off the living room
Then
Into the dinning room
To the left the bathroom
Two more bedrooms on each side
To the right small alcove
Then
Going straight into the narrow kitchen
Through that swinging door
Down the steps to the backdoor
If I venture right
To the large backyard
Or to the basement
Going straight down
If I stay on course

No one's home but me
But,I still look every time
For familiar faces
Ones no longer here
And others much older
Than the ones I seek

Then comes the odd feeling
I can make things right
If I can only find that which I am seeking
A lonely wander in an empty house
With the furnishings still hauntingly in place
A house that's been demolished years ago
In a neighborhood abandoned
I pause by the backdoor
Sensing it's time to leave
Knowing once I've gone through
I'll never find the answers
Nor the reasons I've returned here
Heartlander · 80-89, M
This brings Lucinda William's Bus to Baton Rouge to mind.

Leaving home I took for granted that I could always go back, that it would always be there. To visit, to see the old familiar people and things, to finish what I left undone. And one day it wasn't.


[media=https://youtu.be/cb17vd8zGOk]

 
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