The Quarter-Century Visit
Twenty-five years ago I called those heights Ever Rest,
when I'd race up the steps all the way to Poppin Street.
Playing mountain climber was always part of my weekend visit.
Grandma would cheer me on.
With heart pounding I'd rest on Ever Rest,
right under my grandma's first floor apartment.
Twenty-five years and I’ve returned.
I remembered and found that lost street.
Once more I climbed that mountain, but slowly.
No Grandma cheered me on.
And at the summit I saw
that my childhood Everest was just one flight of concrete steps.
Poppin Street had become a graveyard for abandoned cars.
I stood on a heap of old tires
and looked through Grandma's first floor window into an empty room.
I saw everything but recognized nothing except
the broken window on the far wall
through which I saw yet more abandoned cars.