Going Home Again

In my memory, everything is wild.
Even our trailer, single wide, nestled in the trees and
palmettos, was difficult to see from the dirt road.

I remember running full tilt, bounding from
fallen trees to rotted fence to the only rock
in the back yard, all granite, all forest, all wild.
I once almost fell into Snake River.

It’s all gone, all gone.

The fence is new, red posts strung with
electric wire, to keep the expensive horses from
running wild.

The trees have fallen, logs have eroded,
none could hold my bulk. Snake River shrank,
Snake Ditch sounds so much less.
In my memory, everything is wild,

but

It’s all gone, all gone.

By David Palmer

Biography:

David Ryan Palmer is a thirty-three-year-old undergrad at McNeese State University. He is surrounded by wonderful writers and is lucky enough to be engaged to one. He hopes to continue into MFA-land and teaching one day.