by Carol Schoen
It looks so sleazy
dirty white concrete
one story
at an angle off the street,
where once was the elm
the cherry , the wide arc
of sidewalk across
the wide expanse of lawn
the stucco walls, the terra cotta
tiles and my room
my room, my bed
with its harsh tufted spread.
Carol Schoen wrote her first poems for Sarah White’s study group and has been chugging along happily ever since.