Ellen Roberts Young

Those Who Stayed

Santa Clara Valley, California

Everywhere else peaches are sold

unripe, apricots are inedible.

Aunts and uncles sit on the porch

and remember prunes.  The orchards

have filled with houses: this is old news.

The aunts and uncles are old

and keep retelling the way

they used to go up to the City.

Their young have packed and gone

to other cities not worthy

to be called the City. The old folks

read the papers and lose their

passwords.  The young are out

of reach, waiting for rides

to some ash grove where they hope

to find “inspiration.”  The uncles

and aunts remember that longing.

They dared not yield to it

when prune orchards filled

the valley and paid the bills.