Sign by a cemetery reads

“Drive safe, we can wait”

Against a backdrop 

of thousands of masonic

And Odd Fellow graves,

manicured lawns exude

charm like Grandpa Hy’s  

story of a curse on the family, 

the sun worshipper who

couldn’t wait–Singed to

core against love, no red 

roofs for comfort. Forget

finding the trail 

in between green brush

and black raspberries, 

we’re all looking for a path

to take out of this town,

follow ivy-coated trunks

away from hex-pulling land.


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