Wednesday, September 14, 2016

April 24 - Two Weeks From Everywhere

The town where I grew up was small. How small?
I could walk the town all the way across and back
In the space of an idyllic sunny afternoon
Along some random sun-dappled, leafy track.
They were all like that, the roads and streets and trails,
Tucked among the gnarled oaks and chinaberry trees;
Drenched with pungent crape myrtle perfume,
And the sounds of dogs and kids and humming bees.
It was a town that taught you patience patiently.
If you needed something not on hand, they'd get it,
But you could count on waiting 14 days in any case.
Two weeks, a fortnight you could safely bet it
No matter what it was; no matter how large or small
Time warped itself always into equal spaces.
You learned to live with it or else you moved,
Somewhere rushed, more nervous, wired to faster paces.  
I carry some of that little town with me now,
Especially as I grow old, my powers wane, and my career peaks.
And when some nervous youngster demands to know how long?
My answer now's always the same about two weeks!

© 2016 by Tom King

1 comment:

  1. Tom, this is beautiful. Thanks for sharing. I too grew up in that same small town.