Frances McCue

NaPoWriMo #13
April 13, 2013, 8:24 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

Black Diamond

Into town I drove, past the block-long bakery

And tin-roofed tavern, and came upon the river view

Above a neighborhood of double-wides—

dead-ended at the coal mine.

Little town of sharp-eyed men

And dead girls turning up—

For years, we read about you.

These rivers stained the psyche:

Green River and the Cedar.

The Oh in Ohio mourns

and the hiss in Mississippi stings.

Green River sounds like screaming and

Cedar River sounds like edict.

All the rivers conceal and run.

Some take us into them.


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