Going Home

He was a hitchhiker
Whom I picked up
On my way north
From the university
Early one summer.
He was heading back
To his childhood home
Chasing memories
Of how it used to be
And the people
He had known.
His home town
Was not too far off
The path I was on
So I opted
To take him there.
He had been gone
For thirty-two years
And hadn’t been in communication
With anyone there
That entire time.
His old house
Wasn’t even there anymore.
We were told
That it had burned down
Many years ago.
His old school house was there
But now it was
A summer camp for Girl Scouts.
He asked around
Trying to find some of
The people he remembered,
But they had all gone
Their separate ways as well.
I watched as the initial excitement
Of coming home
Transitioned into a melancholy sadness
As it slowly sank in
Just how long ago it had been.
He seemed to grow older
The more we meandered about.
He spewed out stories,
Of the things he recalled
And the events of his youth.
Memories were all he had
For it was clear
This little town
Was no longer home
And it was clearly time
To move on.