Through a plate glass window:

Shed leaves of trees all raked away, yellow
flowered cannas still stand tall and green,
preserved by the stored warmth
of the brick southern wall of the courthouse.
A backdrop for the sun-drenched lawn
between a cannon and the WW1 Memorial.

There a wedding party of six takes pictures of itself,
the men dressed in colored shirts, ties, and smiles,
hair combed and moussed for the occasion.
The women dressy casual and jubilant,
bride in a short shiny white dress
bearing a bouquet that hasn’t began to fade.

A love that might have begun so strong
it sprayed itself out on a highway overpass
for all the driven world to see.
Grew in cars and theaters and bars
until it became too pleasant a habit
to imagine life any other way.

Behind the brick wall a jury deliberates.
They will return a guilty verdict
in time for the evening news,
convicting a jilted lover of the arson deaths
of her rival’s child and the parents
of the one who spurned her.

A man uncomfortable in baggy jeans
walks by, self absorbed and unseeing.
Lost his license by embezzling a Trust.
Everyone knows he can no longer
do title searches or file divorces.
“Next”

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