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On the road to Bullville
through imaginary tunnels
of stone walls and tall trees,
I revisited Henderson’s old barn.

The barn was torn down.
The red wood was sold.
A concrete slab, rusted stove,
River Lane Antiques sign remained.

Thirty years ago,
the farmer sold the fields.
Schools were built,
malls constructed,
condos fabricated.

From calm of cornfields
came chaos of development.
Now, in downtown Middletown,
there are trendy shops,
vacant buildings and empty lots.

“Vermin” from the city
roam the streets,
once safe enough for eight year-old boys
to hop the bus in Bullville,
to see Elvis in “King Creole” at the Paramount.