Windows proffer rain-view, dusts of main street

Sky shines over (but not through) a place where

Past taunts Present: wiser

Present, Past: stronger

Drugstore at noontime closes,

Dirt reposes

Diners can't rush history

Yet I count trailered horses

With resignation horses face fate,

Stoic in fields frozen wide as heaven,

Water-washed faces

Blink God-lent tears

We will leave this town

Horses will go quietly,

Turkeys too, though less majestically,

Will gather their ghosts, blood, feathers, and

Fly over your haunted hospital