so you are returned
into open arms
cheering voices emerge
from the fog of the present
bringing the past
into dubious focus

an eyeglass

into which we peer wrong-endedly
scouting for that previous horizon
that metaphor for our youth and vitality
that something we were
and still are.

we tally and rue
and mostly celebrate
your arrival at the edge of one small town –
and the neighbors, peering too,
curious to see
what remnant of “away” you have brought back with you
and watch from their windows
and hope to recognize
something familiar
something

familial

in the way your car now sits in the driveway
idling…

© Opel D Hell and Improprietary Code

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