a touch of red in the trees,
their empty chairs arranged around
the rusted cannon mounted in the town square.
It turns out there’s a history here,
you've been inside me all along;
I can see the sleeves of the glee club,
hear the Swedes' long talks in the park.
The people are all on the platform now
impatient to leave this new city,
Reunion Coffee is served on the way out.
