OLD HOME TOWN

                                                 by Penelope Iris

Came back to my old home town

sat beneath the once majestic town square clock
in the high tower still ticking off
its proper time
like the lady in her clean gloves
in church on Sunday
who glares beneath her hat
there's the civil war soldier
standing stoically 
always seeing
things he cannot tell
only the fountain above his head
still sprays the local gossip
fresh green smell of grass
smooth and whispery
beneath the stark red bougainvillea
flowing over solid brick walls
that's the preacher and his family
strolling heavenly footprints in the river mud.

Look at Mrs. Quimbly's gorgeous garden
the roses nod their heads as I pass by
like they knew me once upon a time
their scent and beauty draw me closer
where I hear their voices mocking
I jump back before they prick me
race quickly like an alley cat that no one sees
up through the main street where the buildings 
have all shrunk to half their size
where all the people become small
before my eyes.

Up the hill into the graveyard
where all those I loved lay still
tall evergreens wave and the wind whistles
my grandfather's favorite tune
the flowers kiss the ground while the sun
wraps warm arms around me.