Rockville Coaldale Florence
by Eva Eldridge©
It is always up through scruffy hills
Lined with scrub and brush and grass
Mostly brown or
Strong young legs peddling
The electric orange bike like pistons.
A moment of respite in a smooth glide down
Only to climb once more to a higher point and
Broken toothed fences
Thrown away toys
Neglected yards with closed eyed houses.
Paled color peeling from sagging porches.
Yellow cat sitting silent tail twitching.
Watching and waiting.
What is its prey?
Red flower blossoms spattering
A rusted blue Chrysler.
Maybe Billie lives here. That house shows life.
Boards over the windows there.
Main Street twists into something new.
Two more hills and a few million weeds.
Store and school closed
Fire house shut
The next hamlet looks like the one next door.
Twins of a coal mining past.
Wind of my passage blows desperation back
To the wink and blink of the miniature towns.
Wheels spin an electric orange blur.
Hair whipping like branches in a storm
Until the wall comes into view and I slow to see
Kaleidoscope colors through untainted eyes
Amaranth red and
Colors of nature in unnatural form
Stacked one on another, a story to tell.
Heavenly bodies are magically bound
Moon and stars
Blazing sun and
Sky with clouds
When wrought of stone and mortar.
They exist through time unchanging.
Huge old elms with thick gnarled roots
Limbs shade and protect the enchanted wall
Giving life and power to imagination.