Glass: A Journal of Poetry Volume Two Issue Three     

 

Derek Pollard

Once Ago

On the back porch, a rocking chair
Upholstery matted red and green
A Styrofoam cooler full of rainwater

On the 5th of July, fireworks
Flowers along the windowsills
Of the tenement building
Down the street

In April, the first cheer
From the upper decks

Sundays lingering
In Angelo’s Coney Island
The light through the windows
Dull from fifty years of smoke
Coffee steaming from mugs
Our grandfathers drank from
In between shifts at AC/Delco
Buick, Fischer Body

What remains of that and of all
Before on this blowsy, uncomfortable
Spring afternoon
A single black comb
Resting on the edge of the bathroom
Sink, balanced against the mottled
Porcelain and the clanging noise