My Morning Drive From Mahon to St. Mary’s

In the morning grey
                                                                     I will not stay long….

My Morning Drive From

1. Mahon

In this morning grey I will not stay long.

For every winter day I preheat the car

to travel upon road of frozen tar

here in the little boxes of Mahon.

Where military action left desert

in awkward disrupted state of affairs

and now the poor to work alone or pairs

with eyes to ground to hide the lonely hurt.

This old Nevada valley in the sage,

our tract homes sour as lemons in the sun,

to turn to strip malls where the Starbucks sit.

Somewhere underneath lies a quiet rage,

hides faceless stories never to be spun

and every day I ponder how to quit.

Mind the Gap
                                                                      It’s a world of single mobile homes

2.) The Oddfellows

Most mornings I move into the golden

morning hidden behind the steering wheel

to avoid freeways lack of sex appeal

like prospector seen in “Virginian.”

To pass the Longfellows and Oddfellows

a large red warehouse with block lettering,

is mostly empty, never gathering,

to imagine card playing Goodfellows.

Then driving past the train tracks flashing lights

into a world of single mobile homes

where every other block a taproom bar.

Bonanza suites provide these down home sights

where Basque sheepherders in the past did roam,

where I turn up the heater in my car.

To work
                                                                                         downtown

3.) To St. Mary’s

Somewhere behind “Our Lady of Sorrows

a hidden Civil War cemetery,

a tree and well kept lawn secure many

hidden nests that house the quiet sparrows.

To cross a crowded highway intersect

upon a campus of higher learning

where San Rafael taught us gardening

and reading students find time to collect.

To work downtown amid many brick homes.

A city block beyond the downtowns rooms

or where the street hustlers will con a buck.

Near casinos and the World Bowling Dome

patronage from this lowly Saint still looms

while lonely shadows gamble with their luck.

Jamie Lee Hamann
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Jamie Lee Hamann

My name is Jamie Lee Hamann and I have a passion for writing short fiction and poetry. I started writing for TCE around 2015 and since then I have finished seven collections of poetry and plans for more. I currently live in Lemmon Valley NV with my family. If you desire to find my other work on the internet feel free to stop by my website simplepoetics.weebly.com. The website offers articles on poetry, poems, and links to all my other writing.

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