Young boy, eyes bright, smile wide.
Gaze fixed on farmer dad.
Hand in hand, seeking treasure.
Greeting friends, neighbors, friends not yet met.
“Who’s got a dollar, now two, now three?”
Now 30, now 40, now 50 and more.
Seeks home in empty farmhouse.
Scarred paint, broken window,
Broken chair and scarred oak table.
Empty cupboards,
Lonely tea cup in rusted sink.
With eye of remembrance, sees bright chatter,
Shiny gas stove,
Elbows and bottoms rushing to serve.
Who’s got a dollar, now two, now three?
Saves table, and teacup, the now-rusty stove.
Preserves past for future untold.
Hope builds.
Journeys back to present in a Cadillac saved,
Stops to travel the canyon from ceiling to floor.
Journey to save home for mom whose life’s torn.
Travels to explore antiquities deep
And heart connections maintained.
Center is loss, center is home.
Journey is loss, journey is hope.
Building home, building hope.
