Homecoming
We drove through the gates
into a maze of little roads,
with speed bumps now,
that circled a pavilion,
field house, and ran past
the playing fields and wound
their way up to the cluster
of wood and stone buildings
of the school you went to once.
The green was returning to
the trees and lawn, the lake
was still half-lidded with ice
and blind in the middle.
There was nobody around
except a few cars in front
of the administration. It must
have been spring break.
We left without ever getting out
of the car. You were quiet
that night, the next day,
the way after heavy rain
that the earth cannot absorb,
the water lies in pools
in unexpected places for days
until it disappears.
Copyright Credit: Reprinted from Ladder of Hours: Poems 1969-2005, Ausable Press, Keene, N.Y., 2005, by permission of the author. Copyright © 2005 by Keith Althaus.
Source: Ladder of Hours: Poems 1969-2005 (Ausable Press, 2005)