Autumn’s back, courting dreams.
No Fireworks, no Fair, no Illumination. No house too full with each generation.
Sand
Clean white sand
warm in summer
rolling wet
hot bodies
fresh from swimming
in the Sound
Generations of bigotry / Racist claws ensnarl / Those infectious thoughts / Rooted deeply in the soil
As inaccessible now as Atlantis before it sank in the Sound.
A side by side stroll is a ghost of the past.