13 Forks
There was a time
Before I was born
That my great-grandfather
Could count thirteen forks
At the end of a particular road.
But now it's just a four-way,
A mere intersection
Landmarked by an abandoned building
and carved granite slab-
Reminders that the way things were
Has changed forever.
Copyright © Leon Stacey | Year Posted 2006
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment