Poem – Untitled

Empty streets absorb and
reflect yellow lamps

and release the shadows of
wandering souls and children.

This is what has become of
the city we dearly loved.


Before the sun hands over
the day to the moon

we drive west on main street
until we leave town and

2-story houses are replaced with
red barns and silos

the concrete sidewalks become
the rolling hills and pastures.


We stop near the only water tower
peeling light blue paint

the town’s name missing the “a”
and we climb the rusty ladder.

Over the treetops and beyond the
lake is our way out.

Water Tower

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