Somewhere Off in the Distance

I 

Grew

       Up

In a town

Where the city limits were

Guarded by Corn stalks, 

Days spent racing 

Trains at

Crossings, snapped wires

Attached to useless

Emergency brakes, and

The cronies and I disposed 

All for a response

Buried deep beneath 

Our skin,

Our       bones,

The scent of Summer

intertwined with lawn-mowed

Wild 

     flowers.

Failing at scrutinizing 

The posterity of us, hoping 

for nothing short of what the

Night, the

Moon engendered. It’s

Serenity resting on 

Our shoulders inconspicuous. 

Hope never came up in conversation,

It’s a word best left to sicknesses, 

Loss, regret, mistakes. Yet

It hung effortlessly 

Like stars, except surreptitious to the

Naked eye. 

Nothing could Compensate the time

Spent on backroads and looking back

Hope, no matter true or false

Is still 

Hope, and despite the river

of youth is beginning to 

Drain, disappear

I hope

You had something similar at least once.