Those Cracks In Sidewalks Never Leave

Downtown - 1850


Hitching posts on
cobblestone streets
awnings, black
iron touches red brick
proprietors lean,
arms folded,
hands -
twist and turn
inside pockets
of a white apron,
bare arms scratched
rubbing against uneven
brick: stare down
State Street as it
twists and turns
between blooms on
dogwood trees,
near wooden boxes
that read,
“Deposit Trash.”

A horse heaves
into the air
swings the peddler’s
wooden wagon,
boys in clean white
knickers,
dash to fetch
fresh fruit, bruised
on cobblestone

A distant stare from
the keeper of the
store, watches a horse
defecate on his
property.

Soon the heat of
summer keeps
his awning drawn - -
his door closed, and
he watches through
a pane of glass while
men with iron shovels
clear cobblestone
in the heat of day
patrons have left
for another day.

Nancy Duci Denofio
all right reserved