"Saothwick"
a poem by G.E. Nordell

I got lost the other day
and found myself in Saothwick Village
driving along an oil-paved road
beside the rail spur
and watched men lifting lugs of fruit
onto the baggage car of the local

and along the sidewalks of the village
the men wore hats
and women smiled
and the mailman waved as if he knew me

I should have stayed there
tho perhaps it was a dream
I should have stayed there