When
I went back in summer
it
was all trees, exuberant green
along
streets and railway embankments.
The
Yarra River sparkled
under
Princes Bridge.
Gardens
in the old suburb
overflowed
with roses.
Returning
in winter, though,
put
me back in the bleak streets
where
cold winds kicked up stones
and
blew them in eddies, half-heartedly
into
the gutters and drains.
The
sky was a white sheet
and
nothing shone.
I
know and I don't know
this
multi-faceted city.
It
was home for most of my life
but
now I've been years away.
I'm
getting the street names confused
and
the traffic system has changed.
The
house where I had my babies
has
been knocked down.
Memories
and ghosts
gaze
from every corner.
There
is a teenage girl,
there
is a wife.
There
is a worker, there is a lover.
There
is a young mother
learning
to drive a car.
She
is writing poems,
she's
catching a train,
she's
driving kids to basketball matches,
she
is handing out programs
to
theatre patrons ...
old
shapes glimpsed behind the new.
But
the city and I have moved on.
My first home town was Launceston, Tasmania, where I lived until I was 15. I spent 30+ years in Melbourne, from young adulthood to late middle age, and have only had 20 so far in my present home in the Northern Rivers region of New South Wales, where I expect to see out my days.
Linked to Poets United's Poetry Pantry #270
So poignant, Rosemary - the memories of that young mother, writing poems and driving kids about......I felt that way visiting my home town last time, some of the houses I had lived in torn down, the city itself transformed into an urban yuppie mecca, no longer the sleepy little orchard town it was. I love the color and visuals in your poem, so vivid, and the wonderful photo at the bottom.
ReplyDeleteRosemary, this poem hits home for me too. When I visit my hometown, sometimes I will get lost...not remembering how to get from one place to another, places which were once so familiar. Yes, and I know what you mean about the ghosts too...often ghosts of myself at a younger age or people I knew once but no longer know. Yes, we do move on from our cities... Actually this was a very poignant poem to me, Rosemary.
ReplyDeletethe poignant tone touches me deeply...somewhat similar happens to me too when i visit my hometown...the change in the place and in self is amazing, isn't it?...
ReplyDeleteThis is indeed poignant. How sad we feel whether it is our hometown or the city that was our life for so many years grows up as we do too. Where is it gone? We ask then glance in a mirror and find that person we were has gone too.
ReplyDeleteFeel pretty much the same when I go back to the city I grew up in...memories in every corner..but detached...
ReplyDelete'never go back' my grandmother used to say - all that looking back can turn one to salt! Your poem rushed us through the streets of memories in a lovely lilting way ending with some resolution. "cold winds kicked up stones" - speaks volumes!
ReplyDeleteSuch a beautiful & heartfelt poem :)
ReplyDeleteRevisiting places is a strange phenomenon...almost like trying to revisit ourselves as we were..maybe the place we are in now reflects us or we reflect the place we are in - I particularly love the last verse..She is writing poems...perfect!
ReplyDeleteI can be so alienating to return to the old hometown, and it's sad to see that the building where you spend some beautiful time, has been knocked down.
ReplyDelete"But the city and I have moved on" : this can be so true, Rosemary.
ReplyDeletei find this a really poignant poem. We find some attachment to those places that we have lived.
The nostalgia in this poem is just so heart touching. No matter which part of the world you are in the feelings towards a old city is same :) lovely
ReplyDeleteLove Melbourne. But I'm biased.
ReplyDeleteI had a similar experience with the town that I grew up in. They moved street lights on me. One of the main roads shifted just a bit. Little tweaks and the town I once called home, is totally different. The people move on a bit as well - once you are gone for a while.
ReplyDeleteRosemary - this poem hit me hard and beautifully - tears sprang to my eyes... It is poignant but it is also a testament to the wonderful way you are able to both hold on to the past and you swallow the delicious present of the moment. Bravo!
ReplyDeleteI love the observations you have written on your poem Rosemary. It sets the tone on what our past / present looks like if compared. Such a tender testimonial to one's self
ReplyDeleteOh, I can imagine how it's challenging to revisit the place where you spent young years....resonates...I can only imagine....I never done it....but to see the positive in these changes one must have the farsighted view and big heart...I guess.. ~ Many years wish you in your current place!
ReplyDeleteI enjoy how this poem moves from vibrancy through indifference to slowing down to a speed as if traveling through your life on a rush of time. Wow! I have moved so often as gypsy and then academic--and being childless--I experience my places a little differently, and yet I have the same sense of looking in to a gallery/film of other me's.
ReplyDeleteNot to mention the seasonal allegory of youth and age. Gosh. Such skill and truth.
DeleteI specially love reading the first three lines, lovely lines. The whole poem, I think, is so well paced. And expertly written as a personal narrative. I like its matter of factness; the poet as witness to their own life changes, without any touch of maudlin regret. And the poet as witness to the special characteristics of place and season. Thanks for the read, from Linda
ReplyDeleteAwesome!
ReplyDeleteZQ
Thanks for sharing your nostalgia so beautifully. Glad you had a nice visit
ReplyDeleteSunday smiles
Much love...
Nice. I really enjoyed how you describe the city while inserting much of your own story here. You don't just revisit the places, but revisit your memories. I enjoyed this very much Rosemary.
ReplyDeleteIt is hard to go back to those places one grew up in and see everything has changed. Gone are the places that held so many memories, but when I look in the store windows I still get a glimpse of the girl who knew it when it was all so simple.
ReplyDeleteA beautiful share! Thank you!
ReplyDeleteThis brought back memories of when I return to places of my past..places I have lived...where I was born....and they are so different....I have moved on but it is a bit melancholy. Beautiful words and thoughts Rosemary!
ReplyDeleteI know all of these feelings. I moved back to the city of my birth and youth, after living elsewhere for almost forty years. It is surprising, confusing, even scary at times because the past often rises up and envelopes the present, then promptly disappears again. Thanks for sharing this one,
ReplyDeleteElizabeth
Yeah it feels different going back after years away. Even if it hasn't been all that many.
ReplyDelete