256/365

Union Street

Nothing but the bones of urban living
erected on the graves of the razed
low buildings of our past.I don’t recognize
anything.
Outside one of the last
old structures standing, a man plays slide
guitar.A blues for what’s lost.Is this still
my home?

Union Street

Nothing but the bones of urban living
erected on the graves of the razed
low buildings of our past.I don’t recognize
anything.
Outside one of the last
old structures standing, a man plays slide
guitar.A blues for what’s lost.Is this still
my home?

Chelsea Bolan, 40

Seattle / Spokane

 
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POET OF THE WEEK

Victoria Rolph

See & Hear Victoria’s Poem

 
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