I retreat a final time back to The Farm.
I cross the creek down where the real road ends.
I walk from there, into the ever woods.
I ford the creek twice more and see the sun.
...
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Very intense imagery and accurate depiction of the past as we remember it, then trying to relive it by going to the places we remember and nothing is there for us to go back to. Love this poem, and identify with it's final sorrow of nothing left but the memory. Great poem, thank you for sharing. RoseAnn
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Very intense imagery and accurate depiction of the past as we remember it, then trying to relive it by going to the places we remember and nothing is there for us to go back to. Love this poem, and identify with it's final sorrow of nothing left but the memory. Great poem, thank you for sharing. RoseAnn
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