Down The Path

This is simply a poem of nostalgia. When I first wrote it, in my mind, it represented death and how one woman returns to the place she used to love when she had no-where else to go.

She walks again the path once trod.
The road, once clear, seems now so odd.
The sounds of birds that once would lull
Are silent; the woods seem now so dull.

She waves again at those once known
Who are strangers now she is grown.
Their incessant smiles and limitless cheer
Once brought safety, now invites fear.

She finds again the house once home,
The roof panels now curved in a dome,
The awful orange carpet still under the white rug,
The brown leather sofa on which she and he would snug.

She finds again the life once lived.
She finds again the love once loved.
She finds again the familiar squad

Down the path she once trod.

Author's Note

Give your honest opinion; I'm not fragile!

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

The rhyme and meter in this one are excellent. The speaker describes an experience many of us have after reaching a certain age, that of visiting the locales of our youth and finding them both different and the same. We may make this trip a number of times as we age, for change is the only constant.

[Divine Miss M]

Thank you so much! I love to look back on all the things I did when I was little!