What the Season Stole
Walking where summer
stole the bright green
& cured it brown.
Combat created
by insurgent memories.
We never lived there Mom.
Yes, I did play soccer in high school.
No, there isn’t a camera in the TV.
Please tell me about your first teaching job in Rochester.
Home lies a long way away.
3 thoughts on "What the Season Stole"
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Nar, you have the words I cannot even add to. Precise, poignant, exact!
‘Home lies a long way away.’ For too many. Good poem, too
exact.
Great last line.
Home lies a long way away.
Strong.