A Day at the Courthouse
A poem in Honor of Judge Bayley's Retirement
by Jane Adams, Esq.
In the center of town there is
a majestic cathedral‑shaped room
carefully painted Jefferson blue and white
the tall windows reveal a spacious roof‑top view of the town
a large clock keeps the minutes
anxious crowds line up the steps outside
waiting waiting, bustle in
up up up the elevator
up, shuffling, lost, crowded, confused
a bang! brings order
the crowds listen,.....quiet!
counselors strut adorned in battle costume
armed with careful stories as their shield
the play begins
stories told, sold, unfold, show
greed, fear, lust, love, life
revealing truth....leading to judgment
judgment dispensed, granted, decided, relief given
the tired crowds disperse out into the cold air
as the afternoon light fades
swift strikes of a fountain pen
the finest tempered iron sword
gently carves orders
into feather white paper
across the darkened square
a tavern dimly lit
a cold crisp twist comforts
thin rows of desperate homes
on streets now laden bare
lonely streetlights their only beacon
stories told, sold, unfold, begin, again
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