This Town

A child moved.

Stores shut down
And were replaced by the nothing
That subsists in abundance
There. In the Copper Country

They predicted when the mines
Ceased to spew ore and minimum wage
The rhythm would syncopate,
Dissonant, then dissipate.
And they were right.

But the men from the mill
Still go drinking at Stubb's Bar
And the kids still double-dog dare
To jump from the abandoned railroad trestle
Free from rotting wood and rusty ties
To the muddy river below.

Past the small brick buildings and
Past the old water tower and the IGA
The new blinking red light
On main street