Over hill and dale

To Binghamton I’d sail…

Happily

A “Bingo-town” spree,

As daydreams do avail.

–

Various interesting trains,

On branch line and main…

ALCOs near-gone

Rail soldiers on,

In it’s dancing refrain.

–

The hospital where Dad “Chaplain-ed”,

A lot of shrinking has happened…

Buildings torn down

Services by the town,

And mini-steam plants enacted.

–

Our residence still stands,

Used for other demands…

Memories

Of growing-up trees,

I sure understand!

–

Behind the house sat

The grave of our Bally-cat…

A mulberry tree

Marked his entry

Into where dead pets are at.

–

Culture I’m sure is there,

Two folk dance groups, if you car…

As far as downtown

I’ve not been around,

But assume its commercial air.

–

I’ve ignored most of my school mates,

Too bad I couldn’t find a place…

For friends who struggled,

Occasionally snuggled,

To life’s accelerated pace?

–

In my mind I can see

Multiple routes to conveniently…

Go here to there

Over to that square,

My mind’s eye can still see!

–

Both parents are buried out there,

Haven’t gone back since Dad was put there…

So many years

In arrears,

Memories are all I can share.

–

–Jonathan Caswell