grand centralia is abandoned
away, there is none to be thrown to
for garbage or daughters. Another day
another landfill overflows with might-haves.
burn them, restart tender tinder, recoil
from flammables, deify gambles, ashes.
smoke’s lies swear soldier’s oaths, never
again… embers draw low
breaths, ignite anthracite veins to
smoulder decades sinkholes open air
beneath feet lurch, against stiffening
word arms reach, be buried secure in chests
treasure for a moment over sweated quest-
ions, 3700 acres spread honeycombed
burn, the tremble too small to detect is
—
Centralia, PN anthracite mine town
http://www.offroaders.com/album/centralia/centralia.htm
—
For Ringing of the Bards at Prodigal Aspersions is A Tolling Laments on March 31