You are small, not a speck of sand
On any map. Once rosy with strawberries
And trains and happy things.
Unfriendly little town with scowls and missing teeth.
Sometimes you still seem friendly and nice, but you have
Dirt on your face, in your hair.
There are times in Ridgley when the strawberries come
Back, but not often enough.
Otherwise it’s volunteer sirens and grubby children peeking
Rough groups of teenagers discussing things they