The old man walked, head lowered, Along the sidewalk where the school was. Memories of yesteryear hung over the ruins Where a toddler had run happily across the school yard. His father, who brought the family to this small town, Principal Martin, served the community for many years. The young lad grew up in his small world, On the grass and sandy soil under the oak trees by the school yard. Where have the runny-nosed friends gone? The old man had come back to see the vanished world. His folks lay under the ground by Highway 43. Christina Martin
