Chrysogonus #2 - I no longer know

I no longer know

            after Odysseus Elytis

I no longer know the street’s name; a different signpost

this narrow alley, the witness of my child self running

just in underwear

chasing a toy car, no plastic

but made from leftover grapefruit peels

I no longer know this neighborhood;

no more cascading leaves, no birds chirp gossip

empty yards sat behind the grim looking doors

steel fences too fussy with their

‘good morning’, smiles

relics from the past

I no longer hear the creek singing its name

cacophonous symphony of roaring car machines

of blaring horns fills the air

no more gentle voices of mothers

singing lullabies to their babies

the wind no longer dances for them

I no longer recognise this street, once a dirt path

I walked barefoot, now a blazing layer of asphalt

buildings sprouted left and right, like an outbreak

of fungus on my unwashed skin back from my ignorant days

concrete crept like a snake, burying

what I remembered

I no longer know the name of this town – my hometown?

a place that taught me to laugh and cry, to run and fall down

and to get up again – holding on to hands ready to help

they are not here anymore,                         fear lingers

 the fear of aliens and strangers, or those

returned as strangers – like me