Unthoughtful Town

by Marin Dettweiler
I can be free
Old trees
Dancing among the leaves
I had left it, but now

A minty green
Trees drawn with a silver lead line
Shadows stretch

Wet weight
Snapping the power lines

So many colors
And migratory birds
Rare occasions
A sleepy town

Nobody ever really leaves
Just get a job
Hip or something

Where did they put those
Certainly not
Free feeling

Make it yourself
Cornfield on 35 where
The market is
Within weeks of the opening

She lived on our street
As my mother
Saw her again
In an unthoughtful town

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