We drive on and on, <br />Past Mineral Wells, urbanization, to Strawn. <br />A living relic, ancient <br />Almost, and eventually, archaic. <br /> <br />Buildings, once glorious in the past <br />Like the Sutterfields, razed. <br />Our family's road, dirt, old and phased. <br />The old empty house, lost its breath, holding its mouth aghast. <br /> <br />My own Ur de Chaldee- <br />We're identical, yet- <br />I'm the North Pole, it's the South Pole. <br />I'm there, yet, I am not, and I bet- <br /> <br />That couple, with a departed baby <br />Is forever with me, and for anyone whos graves they see. <br /> <br />(15 May 2008) <br />(Justin, Texas)<br /><br />John Parsons<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/strawn/
