This Old Town

I see the same old faces in the same old places in this little old town.

That is a true statement.

Not that I have never left, but never for all that long,

I have, since the age of  7, always had an address here.

There are people I have known since my Dad and Step-mom married.

I have lost some along the way, and have grieved the loss of their grandparents and parents.

I have seen the wrinkles emerge ever slowly etching onto the baby faces of their youth.

I have seen the hair turning gray or falling out or both.

I know of the triumphs.

The wins that came long after their playing days were over.

I’ve seen heartaches, the job losses, the tragedies.

I’ve seen the toughest kid on the block reduced to tears,

And the prom queen maintain a regal presence even when society’s bias would say that she somehow lost her beauty.

I’ve seen the running back walking slowly with help of a cane,

While holding the hand of his six year-old grandchild saying, “Here’s the NEXT big star, just you wait!”

I’ve heard the class comic say the same joke for fifty years straight,

And he’s gotten so very old, but the joke still makes me laugh.

And his own cackle has deepened to a rumbling, bumbling growl but it still brings a smile to my face,

I could leave but there is just something about this place.