Time Visions
outside the dust speckled window
our flowerbox grows rosemary.
the street holds a little girl and
a bicycle with training wheels.
it used to be kathy's but she stopped
coming out in the street to play.
a fire in the cerny's fireplace
fills the air with pine and smoke.
a telephone rings; it is not ours.
nick aderler use to call and let
the phone ring and ring and ring;
i wonder if he still wears red
plaid cowboyshirts and those
gold rimmed glasses?
the house is empty but i am not
alone as i play in dimly lit
thoughts of denver, the four room wood house
across from the grade school where
kids old enough to reach the ground
beneath the swings played after lunch....
kenny lee use to swing a lot. he'd
go real high and shout bad words
like liar and shut up and he'd make
me promise not to tell. if i did he
said he'd beat me up~so i never told.
he lives far away now...once i remember
that prescott seemed far away.
everything seemed far away then.
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