Stalls Lay Broken Poem by Mark. A Heathcote
Stalls Lay Broken
Returning home then and now
One street that still nauseatingly
smells of gluhwein and diesel
And the sound of hundreds of baubles
and light bulbs breaking
Stalls lay broken and flagged
like sandcastle turrets
After the six were named—
five women, one nine-year-old boy
who will not get older
unopened gifts wrapped with love
How fruit can be shaken from a tree
long before it's reached maturity.
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6/30/2026 2:13:54 PM # 1.0.0
