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POEM: the chosen spot

the chosen spot

the high school is a junior high
the junior high is an old folks home
our old house is a different color
somebody else lives there now

the post office is a YMCA
the grocery store is a revolving door
my old girlfriend’s old parents
still live in the yellow house on the circle

seagulls squabble over french fries
even though there are no such things as seagulls
a flatboat carries a small crane
across a lake roughened by November wind

the other night I slept in the parking lot
of my grandparents’ old place
tonight I’ll be in the guest room
of my sister’s unlikely house

a few hundred yards from the pier
sits an island where the women and children fled
when the white army swept over the land
that much water is little refuge

/ / /

19 November 2021
Canandaigua NY

Published in My poems Poetry

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