Thank you Lord
for the lilac bush on St. George Drive;
the tree canopy and trails on London Avenue,
and the deer in the valley on Robinson Drive.
Thank you for Mrs. Lovejoy, Mr. Monzo and Mr. Stewart;
for the Conwell’s and the McClain’s;
for Flower Farm Hill and the burning in my lungs it left me with.
Thank you for bridges to nowhere and all the Haluski and Perogies a Polish girl could eat.
Thank you for football jersey’s worn under Friday night lights.
Thank you for small towns within big cities;
for places youth makes us yearn to escape and age has us aching to return.
Thank you for making me a home.
Thank you for taking me there once again.