Tuesday, December 13, 2016



No longer my home
Feels foreign and cluttered
Like surreal movie set
That I once lived here

Boyhood memories
Long cleared of debris
Past gives way
New built in old places

Trains go by
Rickety Amtrak
Plies the rails
Goes so fast

Space of grandpa's garden
Gave way twenty years ago
Apartments planted in soil
Different green to grow

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet. (16-286C)

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