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Wednesday, July 18, 2012


Never seen anything like it...

You can walk to the next vacant house,
to the next vacant house, and to the next.
I peek through a picture window to
a fully furnished living room of worn furniture.
A gallery of broken memories display
faded pictures of family
from somewhere around 2010--
a census card curled in the door jam.
Bones for plants left to die in
bug infested windows;
it is odd as purple and yellow
wild flower take over in your front yard.
In this isolated community,
the people realize
you can't get out of God's country
without driving to the moon first.
It wears on you, so
you walk out onto the front porch
and simply lock the door behind you,
and not come back.
A wild idea
matching my broken heart.


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