Bringing Mae Flowers

I can never go back to Tooele

or I might pass that Greek Cafe

and remember the afternoon we ate lemon-rice soup and baklava

after shopping in the one antique shop in town.

I can never go back to Tooele.

Or I might drive up that canyon road

and remember when we escaped to the canyon

because I couldn’t stand watching her be lowered into her grave.

I can never go back to Tooele

or I might visit that log cabin house

and remember high school parties, and college-age love.

All our fights, our love, and passion-

developed of years of friendship,

and destroyed by broken trust.

I can never go back to Tooele.

there’s nothing living there now.

The city if full of old memories.

It’s become my deadened ghost town.