< across the street >
ray heinrich
across the street
an old man is building a castle
of concrete and cinderblock
(and most anything else)
the plastic mannequins in the windows
gaze at fiberglass horses
who graze on gravel pastures
at night
(when the Smiths, and the Davidsons can't see us)
we leave things in his yard
and sometimes
he adds them to his castle
my dad's old fan
is a windmill
a broken mirror
makes the walls spark with sun
our rusted washtub
is now a pond for plastic ducks
across the street
an old man is building a castle