Hazel Dell
A poem
The streets were lined with dutch-elm disease—
regal trees with weeping branches and neon orange
spray-painted trunks.
The air was perfumed with thistle breath and the Red River.
Crabgrass seeped through chain link; every
driveway was crooked.
She ran over the three year old child with her
wood-paneled minivan; she said it felt just like
a speed bump.
The Red River’s undertow was always present
in every alcove and every makeshift, splintered
playground
pulling.
regal trees with weeping branches and neon orange
spray-painted trunks.
The air was perfumed with thistle breath and the Red River.
Crabgrass seeped through chain link; every
driveway was crooked.
She ran over the three year old child with her
wood-paneled minivan; she said it felt just like
a speed bump.
The Red River’s undertow was always present
in every alcove and every makeshift, splintered
playground
pulling.