The Anonymous Poet of Harrisburg

There is a big community bulletin board outside the post office in Harrisburg, pockmarked from years of event posters being stapled on and subsequently torn off again. That’s where I was standing on Thursday, having finished my errand, waiting for Mom to finish hers and pick me up. As I stood there reading the advertisements, I noticed a piece of green and white paper stuck to the board with thumb tacks.

Who wrote it?
Who hung it the town bulletin board?
Why did they choose to hang it there?

I pulled it off and took it home. I wanted to look at it for a long time.