gone

once upon a time there were green Dutch elm canopy coverd streets in Detroit
where when we played ball beneath them you could hardly see blue.

And there were hosts of people who sat on porches while we played our games,
while winds whirled through them making them speak leafy language

of happiness and contentment in the city
off six mile

while everyone it seemed was pleased even if Nam was
going on and bigotry bloomed

it was a good place
and then it was not so good

porches emptied, barron
they’d moved away, the great vaulted ceilings of the city

disappeared
with them.