Thankful

Image by Frances McMullen

Thankful

1.
I walk alone through a rusted part of town. The last jobs and men left long ago. I turn up my collar against a raspy wind; make a weary dance to a working man's song. Thankful for a final drink--a few days away from this empty part of town.

2.
I walk alone through a rusted part of town.
The last jobs and men left long ago.
I turn up my collar against a raspy wind;
make a weary dance to a working man's song.
Thankful for a final drink--
a few days away from this empty part of town.

The Square Corner

Posted over on The Square Corner
Listed as #47 over on Magpie Tales 42
1. the prose poem as written
2. Line breaks by Glenn Buttkus