With Benjamin in Greensboro, Alabama
Sunday afternoon: an empty town square,
Your grandfather’s shadow darkened
(not mine): your grandfather in a coonskin
friend & foe, joy, woe, all poles
I say It’s Sunday. They’re all home,
monkey bars for you to hang from, climb,
No parks here. This place outlives children.
cars bought when Reagan took office.
Empty shop windows reflect our passing.
to this town. We’re all strangers here.
|No. 12 - Fall 2013
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