4076. I LIVED

I LIVED

I lived above the Washburn Pickle Works

in 1949. It was not anything special, just a place for

entry, somewhere to be until I was five. Nothing

made any difference  -  looking out the window

I saw tugboats and tankers and fishermen's

harvests. Across to the right, the grand

arc of the Bayonne Bridge, making some

sort of solid marker for place and time.

All these little cars and trucks, splaying

over water. How prescient was I, really?

Not knowing anything, but just taking

everything in. Before I knew it, 

I was gone from there.