You reading anotherdamn book of poems, Da askedearly morning slur and clinkdon’t you have to work?
Char looked outthe kitchen window kept cleanfor a view west–to thetall buildings she triedto then stoppedtrying toget to.
Can I walk, she wondered, rippingshrink wrap leafing throughpages, and out dropped a card:
Edward Hanes, ChairEnglish Language and Literature.There, from there, Char thoughtsat down hardon the floor.
More trucks, Momma said,closed the one cleanwindow.
Oh, hon, it’s just a bookget up and go to work, and maybe thatway–you’ll get–you know–
There?No, Momma, I won’t everget there–look, it’s gone. Thebuildings are gone.No, hon, just dust.
I’m gonna burn it, Char said.The college? Momma asked,that don’t soundlike my girl. Time for work.
Char burned it good and gone,the card, and wonderedfor just a momentwhen flames touched fingers.
It’s this damn gravel, she said,Da coughing in the next room.
Laura Lee is a Chicago area poet, college instructor, literacy tutor, and writer. Her poetry, fiction, and nonfiction have been published in print and online journals in the US, the UK, New Zealand, and Greece. Literacy is her passion and dream.For a complete list of publications, visit her website at: http://lauraleewriterpoeteducator.com.
“Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of your own mind.” –Ralph Waldo Emerson