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by Shannon Yarbrough about a month ago in sad poetry

A poem about going home

Photo by Tom Thain on Unsplash

When I go back home

It’s a memory I seek

And unfinished business

Old houses, old haunts

Lost on streets I once knew

Like the voice of my parents

Turn off East Main,

Onto Shady Lane

There it is, mellowed with age

And the lives exhaled there

Your parakeet buried out back

With the songs of our youth

I never said my good-byes out loud

Did you say yours?

Or did you rush to grow up

To pack a bag and leave

Like I did back then

Back before street lights were lit

We never want to say good-bye

To Shady Lane, to your house

To mine

Coming home means we never have to.

sad poetry

Shannon Yarbrough

Author. Poet. Reader. Animal Lover. Blogger. Gardener. Southerner. Aspiring playwright.

Blog: www.shannonyarbrough.com

Twitter: @slyarbrough76

Goodreads: https://tinyurl.com/m4vbt2ru

My Books at Amazon: https://amzn.to/36n25yy

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