This Morning in Morgantown

04 Apr
rails clack & the Indiana RR blares
midnight, or close to
history’s brakes squeal shrilly in this town–

sleepless & sweating
because of the broken air 
conditioner, we toss

on the makeshift bed made from
a 2-inch foam mat atop
20 years of green plastic Walmart totes 
overstuffed with broken dreams.

she lights up again from her window perch.
the meandering smoke permeates 3am
& me, the non-smoker

staring down at dusky Church street.
rather unassuming the door to Village # 13
last night could’ve heard behind
"love is in the air" & the groans of
passionate shamelessness.

there, abandoned & all by herself
she had it worked out; first
put herself into poetry 
post & watch
her traps, snares, & lures
so subtly set.

hoped one day to share kindred dreams
with a true soul mate with her 
porcelain dolls
& pictures of the Shih Tzu dog she missed 

just to the left of the brick building,
the shadowy civil war cemetery

directly below the window,
the long country road flanked
by the harvested cornfields for miles walked by us
that autumn star-crested night first kiss
under the roadside tree

sunrise arrives yawning 
with smoke-damaged, bleary eyes

smack dab under the window
I frown at the tree 
that woke me,
filled with seven busy blackbirds
having a tree-shaking flap

then the rattling in the kitchen,
10 tbsp of Maxwell House in Mr. Coffee machine
roasts a mild mellow aroma blending
my murky Marlboro memories
of this morning
in Morgantown

3.0 10/10
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Posted by on April 4, 2022 in Poetry


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