The Center

Buildings scrap the airborne dust The hillside charming each brick And iron girders, shoveled neatly into Concrete pits, opening this page of Your mind to the stones of culture. What can you think of and I will Buy it for you? Is this my only Breath. Think of the center that Lived, nature the grasses and deer That are now buried underneath the Driveways. Loss is the center of being that will No more touch the living pines or Wildflowers, only a plastic steering Wheel or cash in my pocket. Iron my Only sight on a quiet walk to the green Path listening for what used to be called the birds singing. The Center Julie Heckman 8/2/2015