Have you seen Maiden, Mother, Crone?

​​The landscape of my childhood is gone

The place where I was born high on the hill is a grassy field
Amongst the rich houses
Once added and scabbed onto wandering like a funhouse maze

The place where I got my first ice cream cone
A pile of rubble, trucked away filled in with dirt
Across from the Train Depot
Next to a park where children before my time played
Covered over in my time with a gas station
Now gone

The place where I learned the alphabet, made my first friends, learned about the world
With its round kindergarten room, with the fireplace for looks and story time
My first community
My first world
Gone but the handful of bricks I salvaged
Tucked away
Given to close friends who went there too

The place where I fell in love with science and reading and learned I had value
I learned I was smart and witty and would be someone someday
The fence is around it
They are preparing to tumble down the almost 100 year old bricks, granite, slate
That cradled and raised me and many others
There will be a green field here too eventually

And the landscape where I grew up is now flat
 The buildings that were my history are gone
They live in my memory with the people I met and loved
I must visit them there sometimes
It reminds me that I came from someplace and grew