roads by pd lyons







coming back to me

crows know

those roads

I know

autumn in September

leaves alike

past seasons

once knee deep

hand held by my mother

down the big giant hill





many years ago my mother walked us down the big giant hills from our house to the intersection where JFK was driving through on his way to Hartford i believe. many years after that i returned to the home land after being away for many years – hence the poem. JFK might have drove through in november but my return was september and so it goes.

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