Homegrown
64
Homegrown
by Laura Summerville Reed
The place where my heart
was homegrown is
torn up,
torn down
razed to the ground
People and places can slip though your hands
It’s no longer my town
but I’ve eaten my pound of dirt here
so it owns a part of me still
I return to cultivate the loamy mix
running through my veins
I wander with the kudzu
no destination for these roots
just resiliency and time
I drive familiar curves and straight-aways
With the roadmap etched Into my mind
and in my hands that grip the wheel
Like a fortune teller reading in reverse
The present becomes an indistinct penumbra
eclipsed by the passing of days
These sun dappled rolling byways sprinkle freckled laughter
across a sixteen year old girl’s smiling face
Her hand is on your knee
her heart is in the back seat
and her eyes are straight ahead
©LaLeSu 2010
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Transcends time and space. Awesome...
Charlie, I might have known - that's probably the only line you read, lol! Regardless, I'm glad you're here, my dear man! ;)
Augustine, thank you so much. You know how much I value your opinion.
LOL I read evry word and line, the freckles and back seat just kinda stuck. hahaha
Good!!! Now I feel so much better! and it's a good thing the freckles and back seat remain in my memories, otherwise, I fear it would be labeled "sun damage and wanton ways" at this point, LOL!!
Laura, this was absolutely awesome.
"Like a fortune teller reading in reverse The present becomes an indistinct penumbra eclipsed by the passing of days."
You are an unbelievable writer. I am so glad you have graced Hubpages with your presence.
Oh! Sam, you honor me, and make me smile with your unbelievably kind compliment. I am truly grateful to be so well received. Thank you.
Beautiful poem and awesome imagery. I love the photo too and it serves the poem well.
Hello, Delores, so nice to meet you and have you visit my page. Thank you very much, on all counts!
Awesome imagery of going back and seeing all the changes and then coming back to the current feelings - off to read more of your work.
Hello, BAD! So glad you stopped by and thank you so much, your comments and compliments are truly appreciated.
"it owns a part of me still"- These places will always own a piece. Thank you!
Very nice poetry, my dear. I just love what you wrote on your profile page too.
Time passes so much faster than we realize. What seemed so permanent is suddenly gone. Still there but gone. Visible but out of reach. Yet we still remember how it felt to our touch and now our hearts long for it all the more. A part of us wants it back for it contains our memories, our past, our footprints, our all. It is gone but not lost and it still beckons to our senses when we come near. Listen closely and hear the murmur of past times and see the images of gone years dance in the familiar surroundings. Nice write, Laura. WB
I love where this one took me.
Thank you
Be it ever so humble there's no place like home - and no place like your hubs - and of course - it's a daily requirement to come and see the smile which defeated the Mona Lisa!
Yes, Laura, it's true, you could make an orthodontist cry in the face of perfection and make the Osmonds swoon with gree-eyed envy. The Mona Lisa is already out trying to get her teeth cleaned I hear. Keep smiling! WB
Hello, Micky, if you heard the way I talk, you'd probably say, "It owns ALL of you still!" LOL. Thank you for riding by, it's always a pleasure!
James, I'm so glad you like this bit of sentiment and nonsense, both here, and on my profile, thank you so very much.
Wayne Brown, It's been a year since I've been back to this place. Most of these lines I've had written on scraps of random paper stuffed here and there all this time. (I have a bad habit of writing on receipts and such as I drive, lol.) This isn't a very grand piece, but you are right, time sure passes quickly and those scraps of paper were starting to fade. I figured I'd better get them into some sort of order. Your commentaries never disappoint. For those who don't read poetry you should always be the post script so that everyone could have the "Ah ha! I get it." moment at the end. Thank you, my dear friend.
And thank you, AP, it was my pleasure.
Epigramman and Wayne Brown, you laud the praises of my smile so, I almost forget why I'm here, LOL!
That I am a daily requirement on your reading list, EG is reason enough for me to smile, thank you, my good man!
I will keep smiling so long as Wayne Brown continues to write my poetic overviews, thank you, kind sir!
As soon as I saw the title of your hub on the email announcement, I knew it was going to be good. Little did i know HOW good it would be.
Laura - you are the mistress of poetry. You capture the imagination, but never without the touch of reality which keeps it possible - the "hands that grip the wheel", then the imagery of the fortune teller in reverse. It is giving me goosebumps - again!
And I have some Kentucky memories. It's a very special place. Thanks again for giving us your lovely words.
Nellieanna, I love your commentaries on my poetry. To see my writing through others' eyes is truly a special thing, thank you so very, very much...and "mistress of poetry", Oh! My goodness! How will I ever live up to that! I can't do it, dear lady.
Wonderful poem! Loved the images, too!
I'm glad I did not know your story so that I could hear it from the lips of the poet drifter--to feel the dirt, see the broken boards, smell the heady air, hear the traveling music and beat with the restless heart. Another sweet chapter in the Laura road trip--my bags are packed and ready for the next one. =:)
Habee, so nice to see you and thank you!
Dear Winsome, I can't think of a better traveling companion! It's my pleasure to have you along for the journey. Thank you, kind sir.
You weave an entire story and all the emotion that goes with it into a few lyrical lines - you are a truly gifted poet and storyteller.
SilverGenes, I'm so glad you stopped by to read my little rumination. Thank you for the wonderful compliment, it means a great deal to me.
ralwus 24 months ago
freckled girl in the backseat, ahhh the days of bygone.