My home isn't in the here and now,
but the there and then,
a place I'm unable to go back to again.
My home lives in the past,
but oh the memories last.
They take on a golden haze
as I look back on those past lived days.
I cannot truly go home again it's true,
though the structures are still here,
the time is different and I am too.
My home was in those fun-filled days,
the smell of fresh cut grass and a summer daze,
the tinkling of wind chimes, the creaking of a swing,
and listening to the birds joyously sing.
My home is a time long past,
but I go back through the memories often
as if watching an old movie with a familiar cast,
for not everyone in those golden memories have made it to the present,
and so I find they are both sad and pleasant,
sad for those who are now missing,
and pleasant for they'll always live through my reminiscing.
Yes, my home is not in the here and now,
but in the there and then,
and I visit often through my memories,
again and again.
~Liz Austin 2019.
Born and raised in Upstate NY, Liz is a freelance writer. She has written for websites, blogs, and magazines for the last 10 years. She works as a freelance writer and editor, as well as a proofreader and beta reader for several authors, all the while working on her first book.