Detroit Unhinged

I saw the face of despair on
the news last night—an hour of concern

houses lost through mortgages
abandoned to vandals
and bargain-buy dealers,
some homes for a $1

the wind ravaged landscape
introducing a beaver from the river
first time in 75 years
swimming through water-filled
streets, heard it again later
on Regis’ evening show.

A porch-singer, wrinkled in worry
strummed about hard times
came here fifty-one years ago
with nothing and now
prepared to leave with--nothing

time has a way of plinking its way
backwards around the bend.

I weep for America, a land
with friends, a place the world
looks up to--wounded
not yet out of the picture.

Overcome the decay I cry,
in your neighbourhoods
with streets of asphalt--crumpled
broken-window reminders
of your pain

you’ll come back America, I know you
will. And I’ll be waiting.

© Richard L. Provencher