Today I'm driving up to Evergreen, about 15 miles west of Denver, to explore my old stomping grounds. I lived there for about 20 years, raised my kids there, and left five years ago to do new things. We go up every once in a while, 
I don't really have a hometown anymore, traveling back and forth between Denver (my sons) and Orlando (for work). So Evergreen will have to do because that's where I spent the bulk of my adult life. And I was just about to hop in the car to head up there, when this anticipatory image drifted into my internal field of vision. Thought I'd jot it down before leaving...
Jilted Town
A back road,
curvy as the waitress
pouring coffee
in this diner you hit just
outside town.
Odd thing to notice
for a middle-aged woman
returning home.
Raising children so distracted you
then
that you missed these little details
staring at you
from under the clumpy,
lengthened lashes
of your old hometown.
After diapers and playdates,
lunch pails and graduations,
and a year-long divorce,
you moved on.
And so did your town.
She sees you coming
and turns from the window,
letting the drapes fall.
Think you'd like to wash up on our shore?
The treasure map will bring you right to our door!
[ images courtesy of pixabay.com ]