Outside the Hardware Store

The square bags of loam
that I used to climb on top of
line the corrugated steel pipe
a foot in diameter
that I would crawl through
end to end from the opening
towards the circle of edges
sharpened by the sunlight

I see it all now from higher up
closer to the canopies
than I am the brown old leaves
windpulled from above
and scattered on the flat gravel lot

In dreams I am there sometimes
though the walls are unpainted concrete
instead of eggshell cream and it is winter
There are still the steel I-beams
stretching from the ceiling to the floor
and fastened together with bolts
though where should be wiffleball bats
in the storefront windows there is gray light
and where there should be
model planes that hang
from wires from the ceiling divebombing
and counters and screws of all shapes,
there is a pineboard box
on top of splaying sawhorses
their legs straddling over a
rectangle of             echo and depth

Morgue Building

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