Summer 2009 - THE POTOMAC



The Roads of Home
   Blake Lynch

The roads leading out of Jackson
were tangled ivy, two lovers
stumbling to put on their clothes
that winter as we leaned against
the county sign and waited
for the stars to burn. To leave
from here, one would have to cross
miles of briar patch and crows
on a tin fence wailing a litany
of a blind manís prayer so instead,
we found the grey ghost and headed
home along back roads as the radio
sputtered for daughters who left us,
the vegetable garden gone belly up,
and the dumpster where our dead dogís gone.

  
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