Slow down the years
A tired town lingers
Hanging on by just
A thread
Unravelled from a well worn
Coat that clings
To cardboard cut out
Scarecrow shoulders.
Broken apple crates
Lean in drunken stacks
And the green sea of suckers
Rises up in its hungry overgrowth
to swallow idle tractors
And broke wheeled wagons
By the hundreds.
© Erik Hansen 2015
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