Inklilngs 2024

w and reduces it to a rumble. That, I hear. A block and then another block, and Locust Street still bears its name. But the air is different here, the trees are greener here, and the sky is clearer, and there are no people on a cardboard sheet on the sidewalk. Their eyes scream Their eyes weep, but not in divinity. Theirs is of the rumble of the bus tires. That, I hear. May Leah Vela ’25 28