Contact the author: popcultureslut@hotmail.com

The day they planted you, like a flower, in the ground,
rays of sunshine spilled over majestic Green hills;
in the sky that morning not a cloud could be found-
for they were all gathered 'round my weathered, mourning heart.
But like a Spartan, I was stoic, a robot wrapped in flesh,
pokerface and distant thoughts concealing all my grief,
fearful of the doors and floodgates memories might unlock.

Memories of the 8-hour drive and beaming front-porch smiles;
the cluttered kitchen, photographs of old, and cups of tea.
The painted porcelain dolls and figurines in glass displays;
the daddy-longlegs summers filled with thrills and Thrift Store trips.
The sticky nights when crickets sang their songs to sleepyheads;
and tales of ghosts and hauntings told as we lay in our beds.
Antique memories and bittersweet nostalgic bliss.

As I drove home-away from you-my heart an empty husk,
the chasm in its chambers ringing hollow in my chest;
a second pain tormented me, having just left new friends,
now introduced-now ripped away-until we meet again.
Connections, curiosities, emotions left unsaid,
the sorrows of my heart fueled by the thoughts filling my head.
Charming and quaint, this throwback town you left still calls to me,
I need a reason to return to sleepy Danbury.

© 2007 Aaron Bayley