Home Town

Two lane main street--twenty-five m.p.h.
No traffic lights--except one blinking yellow
Where the highway makes a sharp turn
To climb out of the valley.

Deep red brick store fronts--
Some with face lifts to cover their wrinkles--
Speak of a by-gone era
With wisdom and ever-present hope.

Sidewalks welcome feet,
Waves and hello's from all.
You are so-and-so's daugher here,
Or, "He married one of the Jone's girls."

Sons and daughters gone to seek fortunes elsewhere
Return every vacation with the newest generation
Seeking the comfort they don't find
In their convenient planned communities.

This poem by Deborah Frontiera was published in the summer 2002, edition of Weed's Corner, a delightful journal of poetry, fiction and non-fiction. For information on Weed's Corner, contact Editor Ruth Brookshire, Box 1038, New Castle, IN 47362