Home (Revised)

I want to go back home—

To bologna sandwiches assembled sloppily

Between two slices of cheap white bread

And slathered with so much mustard

It leaks out the side,

Leaving a stain on my crisp T-shirt.

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To carefree summer days spent playing

With friends under a beating sun, laughing —

The aroma of lilacs on the breeze,

And the cool tickle of grass against my feet

As my imagination runs free.

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To the big white farmhouse,

its crumbling foundation

And peeling paint,

The constant aroma of fresh-sawn wood

And sheetrock dust hanging in the air.

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To the sweet innocence of a child’s mind

When Mother makes everything better,

Every scrape and bruise

Healed instantly with a kiss.

I yearn to go back.

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However, I can’t go back

To a house that’s gone,

Demolished and replaced.

Was I ever there?

Or was it just a dream?

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A mother’s kiss

Won’t fix the pain,

Won’t fill the hole,

Won’t make it better

When the memories fade.

1, 2

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