Rust Belt

The hum of the cottage AC fills the evening air
Empty bottles decorate the porch with diffracted light
Heat pitter patters on the Midwestern breeze,
As fireflies emerge for their nightly performance

This ode to classic Americana has faded into the fringes
With its purpose fulfilled, it lies waiting for a new suitor

One thought on “Rust Belt

  1. I enjoyed reading your first two poems and this one works well – love the last line: ‘This ode to classic Americana has faded into the fringes
    With its purpose fulfilled, it lies waiting for a new suitor’

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