On a hope-filled evening in early spring
we visit downtown construction,
of jackhammer, pipe layer,
concrete pour, and scoop —
beginnings of what might be.
Tall trees have somehow grown
through perfect squares in new sidewalks
where we wander in chain-linked mazes
down aisles adorned with instructional signs
about decibel levels of various sounds,
or tell of marvels to come.
It’s a bit of an outdoor expo —
we learn as we go
where water installations will rise
along curbless streets with motor-free spaces
for people to gather
and as we drive home,
our minds clutch that last idea —
a need for spaces to gather.
Susan McMillan is a lifelong writer, founding member of Southeastern Minnesota Poets, and is currently Rochester’s poet laureate. The Post Bulletin publishes poetry by local and area writers every Monday. Send poems to Meredith Williams at email@example.com.