-another one for the one true Joyce-

it might be true

that I walked 

across the street

to the ballpark.

It could have been

that I danced

the crowded floors
at the connector of Franklin

and Anawan.

it may also be true

that I passed

the tangled grapevines

on my way to the fence

and the junkyard's
fascinations.

sure,

I may have

peddled my bike

to the treacherous

cliffs of the granite quarry

crossing the meadow 

growing fiercely
behind the billboards.

but I went to the river.
It’s true

I went to the river.

I travelled

east to west

to get there passing
everything I knew.

I peddled
below the hill
swiftly and westward

so I’m saying

I went to the river.

                       Quequechan