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My memory chases a moving image
Shadows so simple so certain
among mountains split by rivers and streams
As the train pulls through town
A young boy crosses the bridge over
the low flowing river
a constant that transcends
small houses and quiet streets
He walks by the house near ours
where Gordon Washburn lived for two years
His memory clear as the angst and the wonder
about whatever happened to Gordon
and all the others I knew for a short time
and heard of nevermore
He walks in wonderment beside
The school, the churches as old as us
shaping minds and souls with slow
repetition 'neath the changing seasons
and the passing years
His leisurely carefree walks
brings back memories of classmates
that cascade into all those relations
that we thought we knew so well
our doubts now soothed by the understanding
that what we knew was enough
Someday he will keep on walking
out into the world
and remember like us
the friends, the timeless beauty
of the place we call home.
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