Valued founders & natives,
Houses resort
To decay
At the side of the road in back
of the lake.

With proper frontage east of Beaufait
Eleven historical columns
Unfold printed documents.

The lament of strangers as they wind
into Detroit’s spare present.

Shards, swatches of burlap & plastics,
Microfiber fabrics & sheets,
A blue sack that
Once held clementines,
The brilliant trick of light
That makes those little orbs pop.

The blue light flickered over a well.
A bucket of walnut
Planks that shine
Like the pistons
On a roadster.

S. D. Dillon has an MFA from Notre Dame, where he was Managing Editor of The Bend in 2004. He later worked for Carroll & Graf Publishers in New York. His writing has appeared in the Detroit Free Press, FIELD, The South Carolina Review, and the Hawai’i Pacific Review.