Dawn breaks across the north
Like a peek-a-boo child in a harmless game,
Flashing its' smile between tall standing pine,
Piercing the windows of the slow moving train.
Kudzu so thick by the side of the tracks
Blanketing hillsides, fences and trees,
Smothering, choking the edge of the forest,
Bringing the mighty oak to it’s' knees.
Off in the distance the cattle are grazing.
A corn field flies by topped with gold-braided hair.
The peaks and the valleys misted with bluish gray
Mystery, haunted by crisp morning air.
Pensiveness grows into anticipation,
Anxious to see those familiar faces,
Wondering what changes may have occurred.
Will you still recognize people and places?
Change is inevitable, constant, ongoing,
No matter how far or how long we may roam.
Shall we philosophize or be pragmatic?
No time to think of that.
We're going home.
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