YESTERDAY’S FIELDS

The fields of yesterday in which I roamed,
Are no longer recognizable to my eyes.
Those fields have now been landscaped,
Into finely kept lawns and flower beds,
Spilling out into streets and cul-de-sacs,
From the houses that occupy that place.

The narrow gravel road on which I biked,
Is but a memory across the span of time.
Now, from horizon to horizon it snakes,
Sinuously, undulating in four-lane glory,
Carrying the commerce of the nation
Upon its asphalt back, into our world.

The rolling, wavy pastures of alfalfa grass
From which I once herded cows to barn,
Are but a foggy memory of my youth,
Replaced now by eighteen holes of splendor;
Manicured greens, sandtrapped hazards,
Filled with foursomes in bright regalia.

The farm pond where once I lazed,
Spending resplendent, dazzling summers,
Catching bluegills with hook and worm,
No longer is the place I knew so well.
It’s been enlarged, now made a lake,
Too crowded for one boy’s solitude.

The woods in which I hunted squirrels,
And sought out nature on her terms,
Has been bulldozed and over paved,
A shopping mall is now ensconced.
Modern stores of brick and glass
Have pushed aside stately oak and ash.

Though the distance from those days
Can be measured by me in years,
It seems that the changes I have seen
Are more vast than time can tell.
In one boy’s life, to become a man,
I have lost the places I once loved.

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