Memorial Day
a street-sweeping truck
an old man shuffling
I on my bicycle shoving
films and letters
into slots
not much else except
trees in pink or
white
waves in flashy
necklaces
two breakfasters in
window booths
four shorebirds pecking
sand-fleas on
the beach
Sometimes parades
compose themselves
of who shows up
I wish I’d thought
to bring a kettle or
two lids to strike
—Georgia Ressmeyer, Sheboygan
