I found it on Street View—the block

I found it on Street View—the block

where the pharmacy was. Vapes now.

The sign frame still there, the same stock

wood, different words in it. Somehow

the parking lot unchanged: yellow

lines worn mostly to suggestion,

the crack running door to curb, the hollow

route it's always taken. No question

it's the same crack. I went looking

because someone from my class

died—a hallway face, a booking

in my memory with no mass

to it. I mapped the whole small grid

for an hour. The hardware store.

The gap the diner left. I did

the water tower. Door to door.

The sign frame. New words in the old wood.

The crack below the door still running.

I closed the tab. I understood

nothing better. The town, continuing.

The same crack. The different words.