Posts Tagged ‘going home’

But the Hot Summer Air Felt Just the Same

We went back to the old road
with the four-way stop and
the old white church, and the memory
of how to proceed unfolded block

by block and not a moment sooner,
but both of us knew that as much
as we had found our way back
past the golf course, past

the sagging homes with their eternal
garage sales and roses in dusky bloom,
past the drive in and the market
where we used to buy roasted chilies in fall,

though we were right where
we set out to be we can never
really go back, not even driving
as carefully, as slowly as we can.

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