Opera House

Across from the hardware store, vacant now,

a parking lot, too, sits empty,

necessity that it was back then,

but short-lived, these days cracked and dry,

grasses sprouting up to fill in the

space chained off, inaccessible,

a car-less void that was once

the Opera House where at ten, a dollar

gave entrance to a Saturday afternoon’s

adventure, the big screen, Necco wafers, milk-duds,

and a box of popcorn all to yourself.