Elliott Finn
We used to do things in Spoon River.
My Great Uncle John helped build the city’s first schoolhouse
From the sandstone foundation to the lightning-rod on cupola for the bell
And Great Aunt Gladys was one of many who baked rolls
And sold them
To raise the money to buy the bell
Great Uncle John placed there.
Great Uncle John led the men digging the canal
That drained the swamp on the east side of town
Where the railway built its yard
And brought industry to Spoon River.
And Great Uncle John was more than a strong back
Twice they elected him mayor
Thrice to the school board.
He died of a heart attack digging a new well.
I was felled by a Honda
As I stood in the street
shoveling dirt
Into the pothole the city said they would fix
But never did.
Bury me with that shovel
It belonged to Great Uncle John.
I have no heirs who know the shovel’s story
And if it’s to end its life dusty and ill-used,
It may as well be in the box with me.
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