Wonder if that swing's
still dangling from that tree down there
where sister Chantel used to comb our hair
wonder if that mahogany tree still standing
where I'd sit under when the sun got too hostile.
Wonder where crazy Thomas and all them at,
been so long since heard from
& if they ever left, wonder if they even remember me
and that wooden basketball goal with the dirty nets -
wonder if that old fence by the hydrant still wired,
posted raggedy and dangerous
& if the old place still homely
occupied by strangers.
Maybe I'll return
get a chance to see,
turn the same ole corners
I use to in my short white Protege'.