Len Shindel Archives - Baltimore Post-Examiner

Ambulances

Their sirens overpowered the mill’s wildest percussions, ram’s horns, shofars, stirring the flocks. Our fears tunneled back to the last

Never went to war Don’t know what it’s like When team members go down, Bleed out, get shipped home Like

Leafless, grey, gnarled, they hibernate in the clays of the brown crag. Their red, yellow, orange gildings, two months

My kitchen is blessed with fruity scents of Ethiopian Oromia, the welcoming traces of Chinatown Coffee Company, that quick but

So you think our small town’s

so damn pretty

while you get on your soapbox

‘bout crime in the city.

U.S. troops liberated death camps

in the decade before my birth.

My parents didn’t use the word fascism.

But I knew what it meant.

Only two years before my birth,

Israel was declared a state.

Sunday morning, damp bench, Deep Creek Lake State Park. Pandemic pup sits beside me, panting after her free run,

I mount the mule, settle into my chaps, pull up my bandanna. The cowboy cloth, I thought only an accessory,

The dogwood I planted last year has sprouted darts, rocks piled on the side, boastful testaments, to pick and shovel,

Photo used under a Creative Commons license from flickr user R. Miller. I Want a Leader I want