The rich are very different. They lack the visceral connection to the Eastern Shore that you (and I) cherish. They come, they see, they put in Latte Bars and tacky boutiques. And then they tell their friends. And the old society just gets trampled out. I wish someone WOULD light the torch. Just like the French peasants did at the Bastille. Your poem does it for me.

Write on,
Patti

This is a wonderful historicl chronicle. I can see it all. My family is from out east, especially Mass. This brought back many memories. Thanks

you tell interesting stories in your verse mean Gene, cheers

I live with your every wrd. My world,also, is no moe, and I lament and cry silentlly whenever I'm close to what is no longer there. Poignant writing from bitter realization.

Gene, you have painted a beautiful canvas of words that allows me to visit a part of our country I have not previously seen. ~ leslie

Crabtown Revisited reminds me of how fast everything is changing. There was a time when a town stayed the way it was for decade--maybe even centuries. These days, you stay away for a few years and return to a land that became strange. It seems modern times have gone crazy and are hyper with tearing down and rebuilding and then tearing that down before it has a chance to get old.

They like to post old pictures in the local paper and ask viewers if they know what the picture depicts. Often, no one knows. Everything has changed so much, even since I was a kid. The stamp of progress crushes memories and monuments. I like the feel of this poem. There's a sense of respect and warmth for those simpler times. Hugs,
Sheila

Great opening lines, Gene. And I know it! Hundreds of houses, property within dozens of cul-de-sacs and subdivisions exist now where grain and beans thrived when I was a kid. There's much more money in raising houses than crops now a days. Just goes to show, that what seems like a life-time (or several life times) is really but a blink of the eye. Civilization will roll forward.

I wonder what memories were bull-dozed over to build the Parthenon...what field was supplanted by the White House...what fabulous undefeated city lies in ruins, hidden deep in the Amazons.

the abject disrespect money brings in search of financial windfalls, to America's heritage is an affront to all things with cultural roots --a row of 1770's houses in my state were permitted to be torn down by the state and capital city government in the name of urban renewal - for faux 1770's office buildings -- developed by a Mexican entrepreneur that does not even reside within the United States --I smell the influence of demon money at play here -- where lies the compassion? -- where lies the respect for what has gone before our time? --ancestry has become an unpopular term in the America of the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries -- your exquisite verbiage pays just homage to what has gone before us Gene -- more of us need to raise the flag of dissatisfaction to those acts -- peace and love my friend -- Jon Michael

The tang of the sea in your salty poems, gene.

True life experience, as always!

Gene - You've described the fate of so msny authentic places. Like the ending,

he decides it’s time again
to light the torch.

The reader is left to wonder if it's the torch of enlightenment or of destruction, or both?

- David

Wonderful write, I enjoyed
My home town has changed so much I hardly recognize it
Sad because I live 15 minutes from it :)
Have a great evening and a better day tomorrow
The Buzzard

Oh Gene what a picturesque walk down memory land in a wonderful New England town. Oh how you bring it all to life....

Be always safe,
Karen

I often take those memory strolls, as I call them, to see in my mine's eye what was...and what it has now become. Nothing stays the same I am sad to say.
Thank you Gene

Carole~

I guess it's what they call "progress." I've lived that. To me, it's very sad. Thank you, Gene. Love and peace,

Regis

...can't take away those great memories...love this Gene! you brought me back to my old stompin grounds in mind.....:)

Gene, what a fantastic journey to a time, and place, sadly long gone.

Cheers,
Dan

Might as well set light if for no other reason than to spark an interest in the old stories which never die. Well done. Hugs, J'nia

A sad, yet enchanting visit to your once-was town, Gene. The title could have been "Crabtown Lost". All the amazing and familiar homes, buildings, and landscapes of "your" town now gone; a sad example of progress seen often across America. But the most poignant regret be...the loss of what molded our youth. Pen and ink put to great use here, my friend!
BLessings and Love - Micke

Don't know around you Gene, but since the gold-rush they have had a mean crab-chowder in San Francisco, and if I am not wrong, up East, around Maine you have a "crabtown" of your own.

Georg

Change rarely ever seems to be "progress." Sometimes change is just change bringing nothing of substance; it is not always inherently valuable yet it is the one thing we can always be sure of. I love: "fanciful irrelevance", "empty lot in search of new money", "donor name tags", and "yuppified saloon." Character: where has it gone? The truth, the integrity is paved over in sensationalistic, commercialized, and all too often neon nothingness. It's like giving a child a hollow chocolate bunny for Easter.

Nothing remains the same Gene, life continually changes and we have to change with them, sometimes it's a real shame. thank you for sharing a great write.

Newfie hugs, Rose

WONDERFUL!!!!!!!!!! I LIKE IT VERY MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva

does that close mean you're the rebel redcoat? Why Gene...I gasp for breath...Oh My Stars! Did you set this revision of Crabtown on fire for the 4th time...as a trail of smoke rolls on through...
It's been a great visit...though I miss historic building when they are revised by modern means...
Much Love & Inspirations
Vickie

Nice write, Gene.

Time marches on and has no respect for the history we grew up in and loved.

I can see, smell and almost taste The Bay....that's how well written this is, Gene. Made me think of the saying, "You can't go home again,"....but I think you can, as long as we're willing to accept a few changes along the way....including changes within ourselves. Gorgeous writing, Gene.

Gene, thank you for the pleasure of reading such exceptional writing!
This is a joy to experience!...ET

Such a beauty you have penned and shared with us. I could smell the Chesapeake Bay as I read your poem. What a wonderful way to grow up.
Much peace, love, and light,
Amber "V"

Even though this is about a town in the Chesapeake it reminds me of my childhood Summers in the Pacific NW. From style to the captured nostalgia, everything about the is superb.

A most satisfying, wonderful read, Gene; outstanding! BRAVO!

(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D

Gene,
In re-creation there is inevitably loss of authenticity and equally as important that essential loss of feel and atmosphere which must be experienced first hand to be known and appreciated. This is rich tribute to what was and what was loved and brings Goldsmith and his Deserted Village to mind. A beautiful experience.

John