"When I became editor-in-chief of the city’s alt weekly, Dayton City Paper, it became my job to know Dayton intimately."
An elegy for a wounded place.
On childhood summers at a black enclave in Michigan, and the moment everything changed.
Stories, recounted and repeated and insisted upon, accumulate.
"In early morning the tributaries / at Pittsburgh meld, then flow on / for centuries"
"During my visits to to the nursing home, Dad and I have sometimes settled into chairs to time-travel through a photo album."
"I kneeled at the stump where we laid the Ford agate,/Made up spells and secrets..."
As the jobs have vanished, as education and employment have lured our young people out-of-state and overseas, our holidays have been transformed as well.