Jun 16, 2016


the other night i rode my bike uptown like we did last june.
past the closed library and through the empty main street
bike tires crunching on old asphalt / gliding over the yellow lines of empty parking spaces.
the air is thick and warm
and the feelings and smells of wheat harvest drift around. 

i didn't turn down that street 
like we used to.

( i didn't pull up on the driveway
and sit on the back patio with the dogs.
i didn't slip in the back door 
into the little air conditioned house.
i didn't grab a lemon oreo from the jar
or a swig of raspberry lemonade from a red cup. )

that little house holds someone else now. 
( this town never held any of us for long )

but last june and july
i remember thinking
i could get used to this.

and i think i did.


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