she walked with her left leg in the sun

it quickly grasped the fertile soil 
by the wrist
threw it back as dust
threw it back as debris
1929 jobless man sits by a lamppost alone 
black blizzard wanders through a
garden gate
ignores a ‘no trespassing’ sign 
like a wallstreeter ignores
concrete sidewalk
she, with two under each arm, saw
her husband buried in sand
their life closed like a dust jacket on a book,
numbered pages;
in a library, someone reads the ‘no talking’ sign
the depression was a place of skin,
hiding bare bones
hiding soup kitchen
black blizzard wore a reaper’s veil,
wolf knocked on the door,
it huffed and puffed
a poor swimmer makes it to the surface and drowns
a banker reached into his three piece suit pocket
and pulled out a handful of dust
the mother of two reached into her apron pocket 
and pulled out a foreclosure notice; 
she sat by a lamppost alone, darkness to see
her children
dust and debris covered everything like a 
handyman’s paint job
then, through pasted window a glimmer 
of light
touched her hand like he once proposed,
she had sold the ring for food
the black blizzard was carried away on a 
non-ill wind
her children smiled again.
Copyright © 04/10/2013 Ðark Ṝoasted Ƣoetry® 

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