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Wk kortas Dec 2017
That little girl was up here a few weeks ago,
She says with as much enthusiasm
As the hourly ad hoc ambassador
For her small, unremarkable corner can muster,
And she laughs, I mean she played that little girl--
Zuzu, that's the name-- in the movie.
Poor thing moves pretty slow now,
Had to tromp around with a cane and all.

I smile, not much less weary myself,
(Not quite halfway from Toledo to Boston,
Miles to go before I sleep and all that)
Having pulled off the Thruway in the hope
The village supported something
Which might be open on Christmas Eve.
She chatters on, noting she pulled this shift
As a favor to a younger counterpart,
Since her children were old enough to stay on their own,
(Not to mention old enough to refrain from bouncing out of bed
Before sunrise on Christmas morning),
Mentioning that Capra visited here once and only once,
But was somehow moved enough to center his tale here
(To be fair, the place is quaint enough,
But no more so than any number of burghs just like it)
And so the village fathers have tried to make hay
While the snow flies, as it were,
The town's main street done uo in the spitting image of the movie, Although it seems different, even mildly unsettling,
When the tableau is not in two dimensionial black-and-white
The waitress and I, all but marooned alone
In this small-town Upstate bar and grill,
Exchange pleasantries (More coffee, Hon?
Visitin' family out in Boston?
)
And I pay at the register (cash only here,
And I make it a point to tip very merrily, indeed)
Then stroll the couple of blocks to the municipal lot,
The bridge that may have launched
A thousand angels clearly visible in the distance,
Passing by a large, gray-brick building
Which have been George Bailey's mixed blessing
Now bearing the logo of a large multi-national financial leviathan
Based in Hong Kong.
Besides being the home of the women's suffrage movement in the U.S., Seneca Falls lays claim to being the inspiration for Frank Capra's Bedford Falls.
“Mom, how high do planes fly?”
40,000 feet in the sky,
I don’t know if it’s worse in the cabin
-or is it the pressure that I can’t say goodbye.



After doing it a handful of times
I thought I would get used to this,

left behind my previous times,
leaving for a future I don’t know exists.



Men carrying boxes off my doorstep,
I’ll miss my friends in the past,
this isn’t the first time i’ve done this,
and it won’t be my last.



Used to have parents and sister with me
with my dogs there for the worst days,
now my sister and mom are separate from me
and my dogs passed away.

College under a year away, visitin’ knock on my door yet,
Mom strolls hesitantly into my room and sits me on my bedspread,
she tells me it’s that time again, her job had another mis-step,
tellin’ me Georgia is last on the list for this journey’s true end.



Though I know better, for I am no fool, she’ll surely do it again,
move back to Ohio just to retire when my sis goes into college,
yet I can hold no resent even if we’re up and out of state again,
cause this cycle is bound to repeat until it does hit an end.

Go from OH to MC to AZ to CA
to NH to OH to NJ to GA
back to OH to NC to NY to PA,
visit AZ and CA, not live there, but give thanks.



I’ve gone through this nation-wide journey through most states,
from drug-towns and cities to towns then away,
Mentally more than physically this journey i’ll take,
And move on my own ’til my hair turns gray.



Though I am not one to cry,
I’m not one to bat an eye,
I’m instead the one to soar high,
The height that planes fly.

— The End —