Poetry and Poetics
A FIFTIES CHILDHOOD
The noon whistle started with a groan
and rose to a howl.
Dogs rolled out of sleep
to stretch and bark at shadows.
Some people sat to ham and cherry
some drew up to cornbread and cold
The whistle sat atop the water tower
where the town's name shimmered
in the sun.
The sound filled every street and
The time was noon, the day was every
© by Russ Kesler
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