Glen Arbor
by Timothy Reed
Landlocked in a sea of green
who would ever have known your treasure
- you had kept your secrets from us
you taught us the constant beauty that
underneath, regardless of winter's chill
you wait to be born with the kiss of spring
we strolled through your streets
young, frustrated, contented, longing
as you tried to exert your motherly care
on our wait-weighted souls
Louis Armstrong's trumpet swelled and burst
through an artisan's open garage
as clay took shape - made meaning from mud
your dot on the map there on M-22
reminds me of all buried gemstones
unseen and forgotten, but precious.
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