PULCHRITUDE
Those covered bridges that I remember,
over rivers and streams, they have no
bottoms now; nothing to walk or ride
upon. Ghosts, like all the rest, of the
land that once was. There was one,
in particular, off the side of a road
somewhere out Towanda way. Those
Pennsylvania idlers kept coming by,
but no one recognized a thing. 1974,
for instance, that world already
was half-erased. Worse now,
and all for sure.
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