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Tuesday, April 8, 2014

Poem for April 9

Small Towns

They are gone now, those neighborhood sages.
The streets are quiet, each house keeps to its own.
Doors and windows are closed, no one has spoken in ages.
They are gone now, the eyes and ears of neighborhood sages.
We grew up under their noses, went through all our stages,
lived in and out and through their houses like home.
They heaped advice, handed out warnings, those sages.
All the streets are quiet now. Each house lives alone.

Ruth Moose

1 comment:

  1. Bring the sages back along with the town drunks of prophets.

    Good stuff.