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En Route
by Earl Coleman

Some fade away
too old even to be photographed
no solution that would rescue them
from our developers

some deliquesce
disoriented as the world turns
mumbling to the others over walkers
in the yawning day room

some, like redwoods,
rise enough to disregard the blight below,
jet fumes above, and grow into the night sky
with no end in sight.