&c.

Note: this partly a found poem, pulled from the pages of the

Kentucky Gazette and general advertiser, July 29, 1806, found

at the digital public library of America (www.dp.la)

My head aches

from changes in pressure

and my vision swims,

replacing what I know is here

with a vision

I’ve only seen in history collections.

I stand

in front of

T H E B U F F A L O E

whose table

is plentifully supplied

with the best viands

the season can afford,

next door to

Trotter & Tilford,

newly stocked with

M E R C H A N D I Z E

received from Philadelphia:

fancy callicoes and chintzes

Longhorn and Dunstable bonnets

&c.

&c.

&c.

for cash in hand,

but my hands are empty

and my pockets

only hold plastic

so I turn back,

saddened

by what is lost

along the road

and burned

from our collective

memory.

The History of Light

Reflected light
paints a window on my wall
but it is only an illusion.
Stepping forward, I look,
and time wavers so I can see--
This house
before it tragically became
yet another office building.
When it housed life
and family.
Back when gas lights burned
and horse drawn wagons delivered ice.
History is evident in the cracks
if you open your eyes
when a window presents
an opportunity.

*In response to Three Word Wednesday