Jim Milks

(2/7/1966 / Boston)

Rockland: Or the Death of a Small Town


Old men out on the stoop stare blankly through their sullen eyes
As the world passes slowly by
Sweat shines like jewels in their steel-grey hair
Everyone has forgotten that they were still there

on Union Street that the store, that became a restaurant,
then another restaurant Is nothing but an empty space
Somewhere somehow we gave up the race

A town doesn’t die with a bang and a scream
But passes slowly with whimper and a sigh
Like the fading remnants of a forgotten dream

For sale signs hang on every street
Vacant buildings bake in the summer heat
A lonely and desolate main street
The death of a town is now complete


(JPM-7/19/11)

Submitted: Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Edited: Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Rockland: Or the Death of a Small Town by Jim Milks )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. death, Omobude Saint perry
  2. sO u wannabe a hOLY cOw, bOy, sEaN nOrTh
  3. in between, Omobude Saint perry
  4. Fetching a Raindrop, Masharia kanyari
  5. my death, Omobude Saint perry
  6. Midnight's Rain, Khairul Ahsan
  7. Seamless Transition, Doug Blair
  8. To Be Continued, Vincent Topp
  9. Church Woman (Saint in Progress), Doug Blair
  10. Invisible Monster, Dan Walker

Poem of the Day

poet Emily Dickinson

239

"Heaven"—is what I cannot reach!
The Apple on the Tree—
Provided it do hopeless—hang—
That—"Heaven" is—to Me!

...... Read complete »

 

Modern Poem

poet John Burroughs

 

Member Poem

[Hata Bildir]