defunct bowling alley fringed with camellias
& cyclone fence: the avenue’s not quiet—
a shovel scraping birch leaves off the sidewalk,
a train’s heavy metal commotion under
electrified wires & the steel cloud vortex;
traffic’s inarticulate fiberglass sigh—
crow has its say, flaps off the power pole as
I wait for this walk sign to flash white again
Jack Hayes
© 2016
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