1000 lines of blank verse! Lines 294.5 - 316.5

Benton, WV (Along the Ohio, 1)

Out here all turns are sharp, all hills are steep,
rainwater drains so fast the grass won’t grow.
My porch is a brick buffer from the cars
that race down this curved alley every night

down to the river, and then back uptown,
youths risking themselves, and their mothers’ love.
I sit out on the porch and hold the phone
I wait here for the crash, so I can help.

I know each boy in town by how they drive,
their peeling tires stink rubber down my road.
I know each risk they take by how they take
the turn of the back alley by my house.

The careful ones slow down at sight of brick,
maybe not much but watching them has taught
what caution looks like even when it’s fast.
But danger boys speed up when they see me.

I smile at them, I rock, I show the phone
so they will know they’re safe, but they speed up.
They scoff at kindness from an old lady
who's known their mothers and their fathers well,

knows how they died,
if dead,
knows where, knows when
and does not want to see the sons die too. ¶ 9:02 AM