Please enjoy a guest post by Nancy Hartney
LETTERS AND MUSCADINES
I have eaten the last of wild summer muscadines stolen from the vine-covered fence and spit the seeds into my hand. The street ran straight to the warehouse that teetered on the corner empty these forty years memories of hustle and chaos and life once filled its cavernous space. I stand in the dim interior. Pigeons, disturbed, whirl from wooden rafters. A single feather drifts down, settles in a puddle shining with grease. My fingers touch a string-tied packet hidden in the middle drawer yellow corners curled around heart-scribbles I touch the hardness of a vanished pen that wrote the letters, that rendered permanence. Speech, between people, lacks form evaporates into space silent as a cat’s ghost. Filtering through a dingy window, A spider web glints in the thin light floats and disappears. The demolition crew arrives Tomorrow at cockcrow.
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