Come by this way

        where the bramble tangles,

        where the children

        have left their spent shells

        and condoms. Near

        the shack where Winnie

        takes her boys.

        Near this pond which when

        frozen looks like

        a dirty mirror.

        Come by this way,

        and I will tell you how it was

        for me, for all of us,

        growing up under the

        umbrella of mushroom clouds,

        in the mystic 60s,

        in a suburb called Raleigh,

        on the edge of

        the great, unreal Bluff City.


Copyright © Cory Messler, 2005. All Rights Reserved.