by George Salamon
I looked for the American character,
and I saw the contours fading, the
words to sing of it sour or drab, I
seek refuge in old photo albums,
capturing dignity and pride, coming
together in many kinds of work and
fulfillment, revealing what we had or
what we thought we had, now that
we're seeking the causes of our loss
as if our minds had shut down and our
hands and feet were bound, yet no
cause is so deep it cannot be found.
George Salamon live in the heartland of America, St. Louis, MO, and contributes to The Asses of Parnassus, One Sentence Poems, and The New Verse News.
