Red Brick

Jason Vasser-Elong

Red brick

Old homes, storefronts

shine like red faces

greeting an autumn sun

horse drawn memories

that are not mine to have,

cobble stoned past.

The marvel that was the Eads

looming over the mighty Missi-

ssippi, like clouds over those

sold up and downstream,

blackhaw viburnum, catalpa,

& sweetgum leaves wave

like old friends in the breeze –

that even after centuries

can be felt by a pedestrian

approaching the steps

of a shabby edifice

under an October sky

almost always orange

and indifferent

never crimson

never brown.