Emotional Truths

it’s inevitable — things disappear, sometimes replaced but often either allowed to decay or altered so that whatever was there originally morphs into something different —until the old is eradicated

last year the tree in front of our house refused to grow leaves, the bark hung off the trunk and a slight kick left gaping holes indicating a dead tree—a tree that might topple under the assault of a good wind and send its long legged limbs across the road or onto a roof— with that in mind the town concluding that waiting for buds was fruitless and they sent a squad of  people to take down the dead tree

all that is left is a short stump which might be good for use as a sitting stool save for the fact that it is at an angle leaving the individual in a precarious position and asking over and over whether there is a possibility of falling off one’s perch

there’s an old building in town that was a furniture store for almost one hundred years but they closed before reaching that milestone which , in my judgement, is unfortunate because had they made it i expect the town might have come up with a celebration or at least a story in the local paper

stores replace one another, often at a fast clip— a leather shop that specialized in hand made leather belts became a printing store with a consignment shop and that became an upscale coffee shop run by a husband and wife who eventually split, but not before selling gallons and gallons of homemade gazpacho every summer

 consignment shops come and go as do stores selling used furniture and antiques of dubious vintage

the store that advertised a chance to take part in a coven retrofitted itself and became a store that sells harry potter wands —the proprietor offers to open your eyes to magic

i heard a writer say that the poet strives to find the emotional truth of the poem

this isn’t a poem not even a prose poem but if it is to be worthy it too must ramble toward some emotional conclusion

here goes—everything that disappears leaves an indelible shadow in someone’s memory