Walnut Road 
By Talia M. Reed 

Autumn was there loud and clear 
Grey clouds and white moons 
Leaves scattered in the street in a perfect performance 
And we were a cluster of future floating 
Down Walnut Road, when the whole world 
Was ours 
And the whole world was asleep. 

And we were visionaries 
Born of people used to settling for less 
People who were frozen by their own contentedness 
Our visions dimmed and our hearts broke 
As we went on and 
When the first of us was killed 
Our minds dipped into trenches 
Our ears and brains dissolved. 

On Walnut Road we drove 
To a bridge marked with our own graffiti-
We liked the nights warm and noisy with wind. 
The bridge belonged to us 
In the backs of our minds, 
Our tangible proof of a small-town Nothing. 

The water under that bridge never moved 
Our own Bermuda Triangle. 
We tested the waters of our own courage 
Defined fame in our world. 

On Walnut Road 
We wrote his name, "Mike" 
And "wish you were here" 
No one ever had the nerve 
To ask his mother what happened 
To his arm that was missing from the 
Open casket. 

And we cursed the spring for coming 
For the grass that turned green, 
The lilacs that scented our misery 
On Walnut Road. 

16 Poetry 

The owls awaken the silence 
Conversing 
Amongst the darkness 
Hiding in the trees 
While crickets conduct business 
From the sage infused grass 
The moon awakens 
It casts a shadow on the trees 
While apples rot in the dew filled g1 

Management comes to the party in offic 
Like nuns in their habits, 
Priests in their collars, 
Proving their full-time fidelity 
To their respective Gods. 
They greet with limp handshakes, 
Scotch-taped-on smiles, 
Obedient hair. 
I am a paper doilied silver tray, 
An asteroid of doll food passing througl 

The secretaries dress in Vegas Marquee 
Iridescent aura of sequins, glass. 
Glitter fallout peppers the parquet floo1 
With each lift of a martini, 
Each squeeze and spitty-kissed cheek 
From the Men of Management 
Like Tinker Bell 
Glanced off the windshield of a Mack t 
Only her star dust remains. 
Could I lift some on a moistened finge1 
And sprinkle it over me?