smokestacks billowing smog,
train crossing in the distance,
yielding traffic light flashing,
wind rustling dead leaves.
you’ve lived here all your life,
you were fond of it in youth,
you cast it off in adolescence,
but you won’t miss it in old age.
it was here,
you confided,
poured out,
regretted most.
you were persuaded,
the north would set you free,
no ties to old lies,
you fled in the morning.
the days without,
made short the months through,
for the years past,
hopes you would return.
nothing ever changes,
in a town you were born,
with the people you remember,
for you to give up on.
the smog still climbs,
the trains still pass,
the traffic light blinks,
and the leaves,
are born again.