thenaga.org is where you can read some fine poetry – I particularly like the flow of ‘the neighbor’ and it’s wistful, watching theme. Billy has caught ‘neighbor’ watching well. G:)
She waved at me from across the street
with her flabby arms, like she was in a parade.
There was no candy at my feet. She was still
in her slippers, we didn’t need each other
just the gesture. She had everything she needed,
water, shelter, food, and heat.
Long ago the natives depended on each other
for survival. Now, she with her kind and me
with mine, we look good on paper downtown.
Hell, I don’t even know her but we have watched
each other’s movements for sixteen years now.
Perhaps we will meet?
It’s a quiet street, no outlaw’s just sparrows
and squirrels that watch for hawks. We don’t need
each other for safety, for trading whiskey, furs,
guns or gold dust. The ground doesn’t rumble today.
My lever action collects rust.
We have become bells that ring only when things
go wrong. We are somewhere between apathy…
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