Between
Sitting in a coffee shop
that used to be a Chevy dealership
it occurs to me that it’s been 17 years
since I lived in this city.
Where the hell have I been?
The Bop Shop is gone from the Village Gate.
Most of the stores and restaurants I knew?
They’re gone, too.
There’s a pride flag on our old house,
so that’s nice.
I doubt my sons would even recognize it.
This is their hometown in the way Lenox is mine.
It’s where they were born, but not
where they grew up.
Today I bought some clothes
with the name of my high school.
The team name has changed.
I have changed.
I’m trying to reconnect with this part of my past.
So many terrible things happened here.
But it’s where I’m from.
I want to be from somewhere.
I want there to be places where my feet
are on familiar ground.
I’ve tried to manufacture one for decades
based on five golden years.
I’ve tried to suppress another based on
seven years of abuse and depression.
My sister has a hometown.
My kids have one, too.
I’m floating out in the space between,
looking for a place to land.
/ / /
16 February 2025
Rochester, NY
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