The path to Al Marah horse farm

began at the end of my street.

Into woods of pine, ash, pin oak,

maple and birch I plunged,

across stepping stones

on the broad Booze Creek,

up the tall grassy hill

on the farm’s backside

and into large, welcoming stables.

Although primarily home to

the owner’s elegant Arabian horses,

the stables leased horse stalls to others,

including my friend Mary’s family.

On days Mary invited me for a ride,

my pace and heart quickened.

Driving by the Al Marah farmland today,

I see large colonial houses dotting the landscape.

Well paved suburban avenues,

adorned with bright streetlights,

have replaced the waving grass

and wooden paddocks of my childhood.

Booze Creek’s natural banks

are hemmed in

by residential tidiness.

“Progress” has wiped clean,

the gentle sounds of

whinnying horses on the hill,

summer insects buzzing,

children splashing across a wild creek.

*palimptest — something reused or altered but still bearing visible traces of its earlier form.

Inspiration for this post: Isolation Journal prompt #144

5 thoughts on “Palimpsest

  1. I also catch the word with the Isolation Journal prompt and thought about using it this week. I liked how you took us into the past and then brought us back to now. So sad to lose the open land with the horses and wild creek. Thanks for sharing this image with us today.

    Liked by 1 person

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