On Every Street

I have often wondered how place
can pull so tight on the mind.

Grey slabs on the cold ground,
lined with prefabricated concrete;

Frost that clings to bare trees,
leaves carried away by the canal;

The wide open square, in the dark,
filled with a roar of distant voices,

where I search for the one that
felt like the sweet taste of home;

I have often wondered how place
can pull so tight on the mind.

Every time I return to these memories
I find a different emptiness.

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