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Passing Through

My World those dozen years: a boarding school.
Just passing through, I broke my journey there.
I’m drawn to see, the crucible now cool, 
Since five decades have gone, do I still care?

Though closed so many years, it’s standing still,
Familiar buildings speak like works of art.
The landmark water-tower atop the hill
Evokes arrival blues and sinking heart.

This microcosm formed so many souls,
A universe to all who dwelt inside.
Now empty windows stare like burnt-out coals
And tussocked sports fields mock the groundsman’s pride

To children living, learning, growing there
The school was there for good, as life would be
It was our rock, our refuge and our lair
This blinkered world was all that we could see

The adult, freed to write their story-arc
Appreciates a broader, longer view:
Those dozen years have surely left their mark
But even then, weren’t we ‘just passing through’?

Pointy Poems, Poems with a point
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