The Parkway

bysandspike©

asphalt midway parallels
river flowing to the sound,
transplanted Yankees, homegrown Rednecks,
Brothers and Sisters here for the gospel

we tend to sprout with
produce and flowers,
humanity's pollen
rubbed elbow to elbow,
river reflections
count the new faces

Circus doesn't come anymore...
           no matter,
we are our own cast of characters.

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