Reflection: Gone

 Sometimes when I reflect on my life, I realize not only is my childhood gone, but so is the life I have known. Nothing stays the same. Published in Peeking Cat Magazine July of 2015.

Gone

vacant homesteads dot the plains,

abandoned along with the dreams,

of a previous generation,

paint peeling from the house, and barn,

windmills rusty and in disrepair,

tree lines, once pristine,

now a maze of undergrowth,

full of dead and rotting trees,

dreams once bright as the sun,

now die in darkness,

but no one present to mourn the death,

or truly care.