
Going Back
Will it be like home or one foot in the grave,
when I return to my little New England town?
I live now between the mountain and the wave.
What will I lose? What will I save?
A boyhood autumn, red-gold slanting down?
Will it feel like home or one foot in the grave?
Admit it. You’ve sometimes been a slave
to memory. The girl, the dance, the gown.
We live between the mountain and the wave.
Let Rip Van Winkle once more dream and rave
in his old horse-trough by the library, his frown
hawking apples and one foot in the grave.
Mac, Ju-jic, Honey, Ruth and Dave
are gone now, into the sear and tumble-down.
We live between the mountain and the wave.
The mill run’s coppery. Wild waters don’t behave.
A fly drifts, dazzling brook trout and brown.
Does it seem like home or one foot in the grave?
I live between the mountain and the wave.
Another new publication from Dana is from Anhinga Press, The Other, a collection of poetry, available through this url: http://www.anhinga.org/books/book_info.cfm?title=Other .
Dana is about to celebrate his 80th birthday, and his writing continues to amaze me. Dana is one of the poets I study to see ways that poetry can be crafted.