AND NOW
Crossing the bridge at Robbespar,
the down looked up to me - not like
a Hart Crane obligatory when the
granite towers beckon. There were
no scrambled heads of workers, nor
any industrial roar of poor intent.
This was all meadow and a river's
graze: sheep and cows along the
sideways pastures.
-
Every town here has a funny name:
Yulan, which means Laurel in the
Japanese, was named because the
state said no to naming it Mount
Laurel, or anything close. 'There's
too many Laurels in NY State
already.' So the town council named
it Yulan, which meant the same but
in Japanese, and I guess Albany's
geniuses never knew the different
crease. Things never matter. Times
never change. I crossed the bridge
to Robbespar, where things were
all the same.
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