Home Town

Two lane main street--twenty-five m.p.h.
No traffic lights--except one blinking yellow
Where the highway makes a sharp turn
To climb out of the valley.

Deep red brick store fronts--
Some with face lifts to cover their wrinkles--
Speak of a by-gone era
With wisdom and ever-present hope.

Sidewalks welcome feet,
Waves and hello's from all.
You are so-and-so's daugher here,
Or, "He married one of the Jone's girls."

Sons and daughters gone to seek fortunes elsewhere
Return every vacation with the newest generation
Seeking the comfort they don't find
In their convenient planned communities.