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At Dougie's Memorial Corner (for Jay Keyser)
My neighbor hangs her white wash on lines stretched
across her porch. I watch her from my window
as she hangs each piece. She reminds me of my mother
in those days without dryers when the sheets smelled clean
and towels were stiff.
My neighbor would be a perfect caretaker for One Kendall Square
where Dougie died. She would clean up
the dead flowers and greens left
sometime last summer and then again at Christmas.
My neighbor would replace the faded
silver ribbon and the pink tassels on the light pole. She'd
hang white
flowers as fresh as her wash
and check to see what they needed.
Like when I watch her holding the fresh wash
to her cheek to check if it's dry.
She would tell his story, like her own
and post how Dougie died
under the manhole cover fixing a short
and when he got zapped
the traffic lights went out.
Jean Flanagan (Click for bio.)