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My spiritual life might become an Escanaba
emptied of jobs and people as Michigan has gone.
Years ago it was thriving
a park along its lakeshore drive
a bandshell for movies and orchestra
city blocks with shoppers downtown
now a third the population is gone.
I wouldn’t want my spiritual life in clothes too big for the soul
shoes three sizes longer than toes
comfort-wide shirts on a beanpole
a hat bigger than a bread bowl touching my nose.