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