Did you by chance have a small-town childhood?
I had one too, before I lost it in
razor sharp city streets, dead straight yet confused.
Before I lost it in trapped spaces between
urban bird nests, in trees grown for their wood
and shade, colours of flowers, broken green,
calculated, landscaped lawns, quite unused
to being trodden on, pierced by litter bins.
Did you, by chance, have maps in your pocket
of distant dreams with more than one main street?
I did too, but went map-less where my feet
found themselves, nothing there to skyrocket
no prime real estate, no ornate concrete.
Just a lane. And a fierce gladness to walk it.
I posted a poem called Q&A some weeks back, and a commenter wrote 'love the way this made me feel.' Thank yous, that's some serious dopamine right there! And I wondered, if she too... this post is a response to her. Well, not exactly a response, a counter question.
And no, I'm not being nosy. It's important to be able to frame the question. The answer? that's a blessing. If it comes, it's grace. If it doesn't, that's life. Can't be taken for granted either way.