©Kerrie O'Hearn Marquart
Me and brother Joe in the 1940's |
I pray that is not true.
I long to walk familiar streets,
And familiar sights to view.
I miss the smell of the earth
in Spring
When farmers turn their fields.
And then again in the fall
When farmers sell their yield.
Remembering when as a child,
My brother was my best friend.
And even now after all these years,
He still is until the end.
I long to see a Northern sky
In the morning when I rise
And smell the freshness in the air
While drinking hot coffee
Seeing birds in the skies.
My hometown is a comfort place
Where memories come forth
Where I might meet a familiar face
And share our memories back and forth.
So I am going home again,
for now just in my dreams
But soon I will travel to the future-
That I will find in my past
When I go home again at last.