Old Roads

Last night I was driving home from my parents 

and as the silhouette of the little hamlet came into view 

I took a deep breath in.

I have seen that same silhouette hundreds of times.

There is something about the rolling prairie

A town not even really big enough to be a town.

There is an old catholic church there

It seems to be the tallest building now

The elevators are gone.

The watering hole burnt down years ago.

I rounded the corner.

I am so grateful my parents made the decision

to move us to the middle of nowhere.

City kids on an acreage

in the midst of large farms

that had been there for generations.

I am sure that my parents would of preferred a school with a few more opportunities

or a larger population of students to find friends in

but

I found things out about myself that I am pretty sure 

I wouldn't of figured out anywhere else.

There is song by Miranda Lambert

It is called, "The House that Built Me".
The song was my background music
while my brain twirled with all
these images and thoughts.

One day,

my parents small acreage will be sold.

I won't have a reason to make that drive.

I am sure that I will long 

for that oiled road,

that silhouette,

our trees that we spent hours playing in,

the house

where I used to rock out in my bedroom 

 where we got ready for dances

where I spent countless hours dreaming of being grown up

The yard

where I learned to ride

where we rode sheep

butchered pigs

got chased by chickens.

I am sure

that there will always be pieces of me there

 I hit the highway

and headed for home

I hope that this house will be as good to my children

as my house was to me