Saturday, March 21, 2020

Ian Fletcher writes

A Suburban Road

I still return
from time to time
to my home road
my parents’ house
still standing there
as their monument
and my inheritance.

The older generation
I knew as a child
are now mostly gone
neighbors who have
simply disappeared
erased from the world
like leaves that fall
from autumnal trees.

Yet their houses
are filled once more
as leaves are replaced
season after season
with new occupants
ignorant of those
who once claimed
this road as their own.

The view remains
very much the same
with leafy suburbia
being timeless it seems
but my sand is sinking
and I myself must soon
leave the tranquil scene
of this suburban road
continuing obliviously
as if I’d never been.

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