My Hometown

My Hometown

Oh how I remember
That old willow tree,
Down the dirt road,
Where dogs used to pee.

Offering the only shade
On the way to school,
On hot days, we stopped there.
It was always so cool.

My home town had
Very few asphalt roads,
Yellowish dust in summer,
And winter mud in loads.

The city library was
The only source for books,
Situated in the Mosque building,
Which was older than it looked.

The Mosque was surrounded
By the only park in town,
The single site
That was not brown.

For a small township,
We did fine.
We had our schools,
And places to dine.

We had one soccer field,
In a dried piece of land.
There were no seats,
We had to stand.

The provincial hospital,
Was a true wonder,
Housed in Turkish barracks
That hadn't yet gone under.

My father took me there
One Saturday morning,
To visit Mom, he said
And gave me no warning

I was only five then,
And an only child.
They showed me my brother,
And I widely smiled.

When my sibling turned three,
My mother attached him to me,
So I took him to the old tree,
Where dogs still pee.

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