The Center
Buildings scrap the airborne dust
The hillside charming each brick
And iron girders, shoveled neatly into
Concrete pits, opening this page of
Your mind to the stones of culture.
What can you think of and I will
Buy it for you? Is this my only
Breath. Think of the center that
Lived, nature the grasses and deer
That are now buried underneath the
Driveways.
Loss is the center of being that will
No more touch the living pines or
Wildflowers, only a plastic steering
Wheel or cash in my pocket. Iron my
Only sight on a quiet walk to the green
Path listening for what used to be called
the birds singing.
The Center
Julie Heckman
8/2/2015
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