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Heart Is Where The Home Is.

Updated on May 2, 2017

Heart Is Where The Home Is.

It's just a golf course now

where our humble

home once squatted,

in the projects

found offensive

by wealthier

neighbors.

That place

where we laughed

and played,

in our youthful

splendor.

Mom's been

separated as well

into two

precious urns

both cherished,

one in California

in a magnificent

marble mausoleum,

and one in my

sister's house nearby.

Dad sits only

miles from me

on the cusp

of death,

a shell of what

he once was,

but I can hear

his oceans of love,

when I draw near

to kiss his cheek.

Occasionally I return,

to the eighth hole,

where memories

were demolished,

to remember

the sights and smells

of a childhood vanished.


Yet I realize as I wander

the acres that went

from ratty shacks

to caddy shacks,

that you can

never truly

go back home....

except in

your heart.

©-2013-Mstthew F. Blowers III

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    • profile image

      poetlorraine 7 years ago

      very miserable for christmas, but i liked it actually

    • Putz Ballard profile image

      Putz Ballard 7 years ago

      Great hub and the memories in our hearts are so precious. Dad is gone and mom lives in the outskirts of a small city. The home where we grew up in now a modern highway.

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