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Elena Dickinson

Two escaped Boston’s bustle exchanging

            raincoat swishes.

Silence rung for the closing door.

Of comings & goings only the

            wind was concerned.

permitted to skim just a phrase

            or two

with each unannounced entrance.

In our own gust, we too missed

            the poetry section.

            We two.

All others were searching for

            nothing in particular

with the unspoken plea for solidarity

            in common

            A commonwealth.

i chose a book of this blue.


“Yeah, he’s good,” dad said.

$8 is cheap for paternal validation

& no tax on Someday Maybe

for the two of us: my dad and me