Mahon Drive Lemmon Valley Nevada (2019)
When I returned to Plumb street home I found
our old front yard racked clear of all debris
a new layer of paint for all to see
so many cars they seemed to flow downtown.
I parked and stood to stare upon the scene
just like a silent bird of prey on perch
to stare upon old nest as if to search
within these memories, what do they mean?
We would walk blocks to Seven Eleven
or laundry down by the powdered doughnuts
with smiles of sugary charm start our chores.
So was everyday without aggression,
to wait in line with kids at supercuts
or to buy soap to mop our filthy floors.
2.) The New Home
To buy a tract home, more then I can chew,
to simply house a washer and dryer.
A reason to work harder and harder
with gratitude, to know I am “the few.”
Even my children miss the character
of our high desert land with sage out back,
ancient tools in dilapidated shack
around our two acre grouse corridor.
For now a home is directly next door.
To separate our small yards with a fence,
an outsider, this lonely patch of lawn.
With smiles as fake as each pastel decor
this living does not make a lick of sense
except for the sunrise at break of dawn.
3.) A Truth
This journey forward has many stories
of family and life with all the kids.
Of comfort here or living on the skids.
A home is home with strong communities.
So whether our valley looks touched by God
or miles and miles of identical space
the covering does not define the place,
not groomed lawns but people laying sod.
To take the time to meet the people here,
to shake their hands and remember their names,
to help by offering a friendly smile,
to stop and breath and free ourselves from fear,
to play a role in our neighborhood games
and find some peace to sit by fire awhile.