Go Back, Old Boy By Arnold Molina Azurin Go back to your fathers town Go, as an old boy With whole

eyes And bus windows ever fully open For tons of wind and light, With no alien vision glazing Your once awed, startled eyes But a childs clear lust for those Familiar dust-trails; tall tamarind Tree shaking its full-grown leaves; That slow-slinking river that glints With blazing blades of the spitfire sun, That sudden shriek! you know too well Comes from the blue-winged kingfisher Pecking, feasting on its wriggling prey. Or, go as a young man, With world-sprouted senses Cast in glossy tempered steel; Reckon then the grating years Reckon the mangled mothwings since The old house was outgrown Like an emptied birds nest Of straw now dangling from a twig, Since prodigals took To the tempting twisting maze of roads With tense eyes on the roadsigns (Earlier, the wrecked stars Could never be restored.) Go back to your fathers town Go, as an old boy.