sonora2sonoma

Somewhere

in my graveyard of forgotten ideas,

Longing

for a time that never was

and never could have been,

while missing out on what

really could have been

if I had only been awake enough

to have perceived it

at the time.

Dreaming of going home

so many years later–

for it is dreaming, after all–

is like yearning for a place

that exists in the mind

more than on a map.

An idealized place,

more fiction than fact,

and one sharing much in common

with “traditional family values”–

that much vaunted

and even more idealized

darling of the conservatives–

that is the stuff of fancy, alcohol-induced complacency,

and misdirected trust.

The “good old days”

that really weren’t, anyway

unless you were White, God-fearing

and incurious . . .

I must have misplaced the memo

reminding me

that you can’t go home.

August, 2015

Tim Konrad