Coming Home

[alongtimegone]

Not a new piece but I thought it kinda fits.


Coming home

I thought that I’d be coming back
to places that I knew,
from whereabouts
a million dreams away.

I thought familiar houses;
people that I’d known;
kids and dogs
on footpaths at their play.

I thought that I’d be coming back
to neighbours over fences,
sharing gossip
laughing at old jokes.

Just people, average people
moving quietly through their day;
cups of tea and biscuits;
serene contented folks.

I thought that yards and pavements
would still be well maintained.
The way they were
when all my world was new.

When dwellings shone with brand new smiles;
doors open to the world.
Hey neighbour “Kettle’s whistling.
Come on through.”

Perhaps my memories fooled me.
It had been a long, long time.
I’d moved on
and so had they it seems.

So I told the taxi driver
“Just keep driving mate.”
while I sat and drank
an antidote to dreams.

Wazza

[Terry]

Nothing stays the same Warren and even our memories can't always be trusted either.

Enjoyed your poem it has that note of realism that I like.

Cheers

Terry

[alongtimegone]

Thanks mate.
Wazza

[Ron]

So true Wazza, good one mate.
I certainly can relate to the poem too, and you capped it off in a nutshell!
Also I know a couple of blokes who moved back to the suburb/town of their upbringing only to find nothing had remained the same. It also turned out an expensive exercise for them too.

Cheers
Ron.

[Maureen K Clifford]

So true - although there are exceptions of course. My old Dad used to say there was no going back to what once was - you could go back but have to accept the differences. He was nearly always right

[alongtimegone]

I think most of us have made a return trip at some time and not, as my poem suggests, always a disappointing one.
Thanks Ron and Maureen.

[Catherine Lee]

Ooh yes, I hear you, Wazza and can relate! Revisiting places and people can bring such a mixture of feelings, for sure. Also, I really like the way you bring the dreams into it in the first stanza and then finish it with 'and drank an antidote to dreams', which for me brings it full circle insofar as a poignant sense of loss. It is, as Terry says, a very real poem. We know things must change, but sometimes locations are so very familiar, as in nature for example, taking us right back in time and bringing joy, whilst other places (and people), can be so totally different and often disappointing... I like this poem a lot.