I have driven slow,
three miles an 시간 또는 so,
through Highland Park, Heidelberg, and the
Cass Corridor.
I've hopped on the Michigan,
and transferred to the Woodward,
and heard the good word blaring from an
a.m. radio.
I 사랑 the worn-through tracks of trolley
trains breaking through their
concrete vaults,
As I ride the Fort 거리 또는 the Baker,
just making my way home.
I sneak through an iron gate, and fish
rock 베이스 out of the strait,
watching the mail 보트 with
its tugboat gait,
hauling words I'll never know.
The water letter carrier,
bringing prose to lonely sailors,
treading the big lakes with their trailers,...
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