A Louisville Poem
(June 20-25, Bob out of Indiana)
Cruise up, for 4th of July, Commenwealth’s border
Line on driver’s side (mine), Broadway, just over the
Ohio from home, my coworker, an anachronistic
South Roy Wilkins Avenue (9th), 64 Jetstar facing,
End of the Summer shutdown, toward the
Entrance to Cave Hill, sunny day, I happen to notice
No bridges between buildings, just slipstreams alight.
Consider my
Options . . . . . . . .
Unfortunately, the dozen (+/-30) ships scattered.
Never had sense to check Barry Jr’s Courier-Journal
Then, nor spoke to i nterrup t my golf buddy
Enjoying his gas station Coke, point out how the river
Reflected their glow. Still, I had sight & I was glad to
See it–grateful–I still dream in full color.
3 thoughts on "A Louisville Poem"
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I like the air in it.
And I’m putting this in my e.e. toolbox ” i nterrup t ”
Never seen that one before.
Awesome!
Tried to use the clearest air I could find C:
Reading this feels like riding along inside a memory—sun on your arm, a Coke at the gas station, and all those unspoken “options.” The line breaks and drifting syntax capture that hazy, half-remembered summer feeling perfectly.