Not My Place (ode to the places that no longer exist)

At the end

of a dead end road

there is another road, unmaintained except by wildflowers

and abandoned snow tires,

an unrepentant work of art

an eroding canvas.

Once upon a time we celebrated adolescence there

an ordinary abandoned WWI era quarry

at the summit of this crumbing message board –

the graffiti cocks and badly drawn balls have been washed

the girls you could call for a goodtime are now far too busy

dropping their kids at soccer,

all the narcs have been exonerated by twenty northeast winters

when we all thought their shame would be eternal

and Nirvana has been replaced

by names I don’t know

and the couples inside the hearts

freshly painted seem made up.

The sun still shines though,

the clouds still crisp, perfectly outlined wisps

that I’m sure have passed over these ruins before

and will again.