Marquee (NaPoWriMo ’21: Prompt 4 courtesy of @SpaceLiminalBot)

At the abandoned threshold

of a neighborhood waiting,

but not asking, to be saved,

walls of weather stained 

wood too stubborn to succumb 

to the crumbling entropy of creased 

concrete and the stagnant shallows

of upward staring rain pools that

reflect the overcast canvas 

of a neglected sky and a marquee:

letters imperfect in arrangement,

truthful in space— a proclamation

of a world in want of repair.

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