small town charm

they were driving up the hill

made of hundred year old bricks,

now iced over from the storm,

when it happened.

the tires spun, but couldn’t climb

the icy slope.

victims of time and the elements,

they were left sideways in a ditch.

is that what will happen to the rest of us?

silver trucks on stilts  

own this small town  

                        now,

tearing up what lives beneath them.

sitting so high

                            that they forget that they are immigrants too.

the density of their tires

and sharp edges of their boots

break away

                     little by little

the history that once thrived here.

creating an icy slope  

            to coat

the pavement  

that the rest of us will slip on.

‍