I park before the old hardware store
stare into the darkness.
Everything closed here but the bars,
the pool halls and P.O.,
the Senior Center and old Slovak Club.
My old classmates wait inside
my buddy’s shop to talk of old times.
Around us are shelves of used books
he sells on-line; the town library
is long gone, along with the movie house,
the auditorium, hardware store and lumber yard,
clothing store, the five-and-dime,
the bakery and butcher shops,
Islay’s, the auto and jewelry stores.
And so we sit around a card table
sipping coffee and listening to old tunes,
laughing at my Medicare card,
reading each other’s faces.
We leaf through old yearbook pages
and fill the town again with
talk of people and places
and harvest the memories
of times inside us still.