Triggers in a Visit

I walked the street, listened

sounds of children playing,

a toddler crying,

my dog running in appearance abandoned.

I wonder about going back,

the reparable revisit

same melody yet aged now is it,

the sort of desire we today seem to lack.

A society where everyone seemed in sync

with finding truth without desire

to acknowledge the pain we inspire

when lost in fear in rest upon the brink.

I’d like to know of course,

haven’t ever imagined an answer

one that would clarify for me a matter

of recalling memory for removed by force.

This will certainly remain a simple draft,

for somewhere beyond I be called assuredly daft.