Michael McLane Toll (for Centralia)

a ribbon
place your finger
here and here


we say road
but what is meant
is extinguish
call it a long night


I know my way
from here


boys knock down
two dozen saplings sprung
from the old highway


they are not from around
there, they say, no
we weren't trying
to be funny


fire chief's son
words battered down slowly
over years as by axe


only a pronoun where once
a map would suffice


when asking for a reprieve
we are presented with an overpass


the road on both sides
retaken by woods
so we spell home in plastic cups
and chain link fence


at night the children rearrange
the sounds


Back to 45.2