Recollection (Poetry)
20th May 2012
It is in my memory somewhere —
that town I’ve never been
its streets mapped out
familiar with its smells — the noise
of all its walking talking populace —
the friends of friends of friends
that make it seem I would belong
if I could get there —
cross the decades and the sea
of blood-dreams — bridge the gap
of generations.
The lure is strong — the name
more than a name — the air
some sharp reminder carried —
always there on the edge of waking.
Impressions long laid down —
the strata of my ancestry and tongue
whistling a tune to tell my body
where I came from.
There is love in the mothering green hills —
the sense of homecoming
and forgiveness for straying
oh so far away...
the welcome of another lifetime waiting
for me
in that town I’ve never been.
that town I’ve never been
its streets mapped out
familiar with its smells — the noise
of all its walking talking populace —
the friends of friends of friends
that make it seem I would belong
if I could get there —
cross the decades and the sea
of blood-dreams — bridge the gap
of generations.
The lure is strong — the name
more than a name — the air
some sharp reminder carried —
always there on the edge of waking.
Impressions long laid down —
the strata of my ancestry and tongue
whistling a tune to tell my body
where I came from.
There is love in the mothering green hills —
the sense of homecoming
and forgiveness for straying
oh so far away...
the welcome of another lifetime waiting
for me
in that town I’ve never been.