Return From Beaver Hollow Poem by Bill Grace

The return was good but not perfect
These words for those who will someday bury me
It is ok this thing of visiting snow country
And the scene of murders never quite forgotten
Even the cemetary that holds my parents
Was a scene of white peace
From which I could laugh at past ambitions and follies
But the campus now gone to neon proclamation
The place did not hold closure though little changed
It was cat and dog, house sitter and sister
Who helped close the wound just enough
That I could tell the doctor where it hurt.