COLUMN AND TIRE
BY NATHAN LESLIE

The sweep of human testimony contained
in West Palm Beach, 1941:

a cracked stucco wall, the slats of a vent
framed on the left by a wobbly
telephone pole pared
to its tree carcass,

edged by dusty pebbles,
the sallow rubble
of bone ash, death fusing
a backdrop.

In the forefront, a tire leaning,
white-rim
grimed to gray,
scored in two notches of tread,

the base the scoured remains of a column,
Corinthian thicket mounting
to a hewn head.

Tottering
on the rim, the bleached and
whittled remains of a whelk, armors
this barren blind alley,

to what may sweep across
this desert, as each did before.