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.