Saturday, April 08, 2017

NaPoWriMo 2017, Day 8 -- My Place -- A Saturday Morning Poem

my Place

My place? I have no place
There's no place of solace for me
Oh there are places I can go
But none that I can call my own
 
There' no place just for me
But back when I was very young
There was such a place I could go
Down by the creek half mile away
 
On the southeast corner
Of Dad's farm it was, habitat
A place where wildlife spent their years
And I could come for afternoons
 
A place for me to sit
A place where I could run, deer-like
A place where I could be naked
And do what I liked, even smoke
 
Now it's not my place, mine
That place remains, 'twas me who left
I tried to carry it with me
I have a home but not a place
 
In younger years, almost
I'd ride my scooter up and down
Roads either side the Rio Grande
Now it's my ragtop old Mustang
 
It's not like younger days
Still try. I have a room, study
But it's in my home, one I share
I have no place to go away
 
My place? It's in my head
In my heart, there's a younger day
Mustn't let those days slip away. 
I may go and there I may stay
_ _ _ _ _

Photos and Poem Copyright © 2017 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved

 - I'm linked with at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, Hope and the Places That Heal Youhttp://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2017/04/hope-and-places-that-heal-you.html 

- - -and 
 - I'm also linked to Day Eight of NaPoWriMo, http://www.napowrimo.net/day-eight-4/

My poem is inspired after reading Sherry's posted poem by Wendell Berry.  It is a tear jerker of sorts. http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2017/04/hope-and-places-that-heal-you.html
 

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10 Comments:

At Saturday, April 08, 2017 10:51:00 AM, Blogger Kerry O'Connor said...

I can imagine that boy in you enjoying the freedom of the countryside. These words say a lot:

I tried to carry it with me
I have a home but not a place

 
At Saturday, April 08, 2017 11:36:00 AM, Blogger ° said...

Wanna come to mine? You can sit on my sofa. :)

thejungsofa.blogspot.com

 
At Saturday, April 08, 2017 11:37:00 AM, Blogger Sherry Marr said...

This is poignant, Jim. But what a wonderful boyhood, out in the fields and forests of your childhood home. We do carry those first homes with us, dont we? I loved envisioning the places in this poem. I smiled at your Mustang.........and I resonate with how hard it is to find needed solitude in space shared with others. Those long drives might just be how you manage it.

 
At Saturday, April 08, 2017 4:01:00 PM, Blogger Paul Dear said...

very poignant write Jim and a deep story of how 'place' and 'me' can be connected through time.

 
At Saturday, April 08, 2017 5:30:00 PM, Blogger Sanaa Rizvi said...

Beautifully emotive, Jim ❤️

 
At Saturday, April 08, 2017 7:33:00 PM, Blogger gillena cox said...

Luv the nostalgia Jim, and how you can carry your special place in your heart and share with us in this fine poem

Much love...

 
At Saturday, April 08, 2017 10:39:00 PM, Blogger Sara McNulty said...

That last stanza is stunning, Jim. It bares the soul.

 
At Sunday, April 09, 2017 12:16:00 AM, Blogger Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

As someone once said to me about a green and peaceful place I had to leave: 'Ah, but you still have the memories.' I'm glad you have yours.

 
At Sunday, April 09, 2017 1:51:00 AM, Blogger Susie Clevenger said...

I have a home but not a place... That makes me sad. I take that dirt road I grew up on, those three acres with me everywhere I go.

 
At Sunday, April 09, 2017 3:58:00 PM, Blogger Debi Swim said...

To have had that place in your childhood is wonderful and whether you realize it or not you will always carry with you in your heart and memories. Everything changes, everything moves on but they live still in us.

 

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