Today I buried Papa in the ground, <br /> Next to Mama, and my brother John; <br /> For old time's sake, and one last look around, <br /> Before my long and lonely ride back home, <br /> I went out by the farm where I grew up. <br /> <br /> The once-grand house groaned in disrepair, <br /> Abandoned now for twenty years, or more; <br /> Fences needed mending, weeds were everywhere, <br /> The faded barn seemed smaller than before; <br /> Awaiting eager climbers, the basswood tree. <br /> <br /> The mailbox rusted on the crooked post, <br /> Papa's name still partly readable; <br /> I wondered if the hayloft rope still hangs <br /> Above the straw where John and I would play - <br /> That harmless play that took my brother John. <br /> <br /> Sad, how many summers have gone by, <br /> How many accomplishments he might have made; <br /> Dear John, you would have been so proud <br /> When I made captain of the baseball team; <br /> I loved you Johnny, goodbye; I'm going home.<br /><br />Gordon Dean Schlundt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/one-last-look/
