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Only Memories Of

Only Memories of What was i have to retain
I may never walk in the old fields again
And see the Boggeraghs in the gray fogs of rain
Or hear the frogs croak in a waterlogged drain
It was yearn for the wander that brought me far south
Of the streams of the dippers and the shy brown trout
Where to many mine used to be a well known face
Today i would seem a stranger in my first home place
There are millions of migrants in the World like me
Who only have memories of the what used to be
In memory we only can return to the past
And the clock on our lives ever ticking on fast
It has been thirty years though it only seems like yesterday
That i see the hawthorns in their white blooms of May.

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Comments (1)

Today i would seem a stranger in my first home place, reminds myself of visits back to my first home place. Thank you for sharing a poem that explains this experience exactly.