I’ve been posting some of the poems I’ve written lately. Here’s one from Sunday morning. I wrote this while sitting on a bench on Commercial Street in downtown Emporia.


May 18

Sitting on a bench
along the town’s main street,
two Harleys pulse the air
in front of me while
church bells at the
First Methodist play
“God Bless America.”
A whistle announces
a train from the east,
and heavy freight plows
through the city.
Down the street, parked cars
wait in front of the diner,
where new graduates
face questions from parents
about the future. Maybe once
we could guess the future,
but now the world,
perched precariously
on its axis, tilts more
every day. Who can know
what lies ahead?
All I know is here and now:
birds sing, a young couple
passes by, a cyclist;
a train blares, from the west
this time. On a Sunday
morning I sit and watch
this town, Emporia,
a place I’ve grown
to love. When I graduated,
moved in thirty-three
years ago, I didn’t know
that someday I would feel
like I belonged here.
But I love this town now –
its heartbeat of trains,
the people on main street,
the sense of finally, finally
being home.

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