I Remember

I remember Louisville’s white steeples
The Big Muddy rolling under Memphis’ I-55 bridge
The simple punctuation of Indianapolis.

I remember the grit and threat of Detroit
The towers and gang turf of Chicago
The want-to of Toledo.

I remember the Kingdom of Night in New Orleans
The grit and scrabble of Vicksburg
The gentility of Natchez.

I remember the mystics of Taos
The light of Cimarron
The ya-hoo of Ft. Worth.

I remember the palmettos of Savannah
The grace of Charleston
The Gateway riverfront of St. Louis.

But what I most remember
What gleams like a jewel in my memory
Is the grassland beyond the home of my childhood.

I still smell the sweet marsh
The musk of clean rain falling, thunder rumbling
The scent of mom's dinner on the table.

I still hear the crunch of gravel
‘Neath the tires of my father’s Chevy truck
The melody of my brother’s laughter.

I still see the nightly expanse of God's starry craft
The twinkle of lamps from neighbor's homes
The streak of meteorites far beyond our roof.

Our cities rise as citadels of industry and commerce
Of culture and science.

But take me home again.