A Legacy
Forty years later I returned to see
The place I knew had fashioned me
The town seemed smaller, things had
changed
Men and women I had known
Are not around, but I don’t mourn
Their legacy survives this passing
Schools and parks, long roads and lanes
Which once were there are not the same
The trees seem small, the fields are
gone
Steep hills once challenged on foot
and bike
Seem now mere knolls, a lot alike
Will legacy survive my passing?
Landmarks once that guided me
Are now disguised or missing, see
That great chimney, this broken wall
The paths which took me through the
trees
The streams that slowed my walk to
school
Must legacy survive my passing?
A Quaker church, an old school house
Equipment, tractors, farming gear
Preserved in time until next year
When once again they’ll bring about
A chance to feel, to see, to know
Which legacy survives our passing
Headstones wander through a park
Amidst large pine and maple trees
Where rusty fence, ornate iron gates
Encircle now the resting place
Of earthly structures left behind,
departed souls
Whose legacy survives their passing
I leave behind these images
Of birthplace, youth and industry
To chart a course for wider worlds
To make a mark, to find a place
But sense as now I ponder these
My legacy survives this passing
I wrote this poem upon returning home to Uxbridge in the fall of 1995 some 20 years after leaving the town. I thought of it again when I returned to bury dad and celebrate his life.
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