Can You Go Home Again?

Came across these photos and a poem I wrote after my visit back to my home town in Illinois in 2011. A bittersweet journey.

A barn built to last one hundred years.

Rusty now. But the only farm building left standing.

Everything else is corn fields.

Hay bales still crowd the loft, a place a mystery and a home for kittens.

Everything else is gone. The house, the truck shed, even the pond where Grandma taught me to fish.

We tramp the ground – The back door was here. The pump was here. Remember? Remember?

Children of the farm – we came back to see.

Took photos of each other.

Stole an ear of corn to eat later, cooked in the hotel room microwave.

A farm built to last in the hearts of the grandchildren.

Published by headywriting19

I am a writer, editor and promoter of all things relating to reading, literacy and self-expression through the written word. I love to travel and study languages. Besides English, I speak Spanish and can "get by" in French and Italian. I like to cook, hike and keep my two cats happy.

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