Walking a street strewn with all sorts of relics
Those prickly little burrs
Pamphlets from hair salons
The street leading up a hill
Toward a sunset
Of soft greens
And pale pinks
Hints of purple and red
The final streaks of blue
Through leafless trees
Through dogwoods with their cotton ball blossoms
Through oaks old as the city
Beyond houses built in Helen’s favorite style
Planks of wood
A dog chained and barking in the yard
The earth turning on its axis
To reveal for no other reason
These holy smatterings of color
Light trapped in the atmosphere
Reflecting distant oceans
Until everything is dark
Deep indigo sky.
Reminding us of the home we didn’t know we shared,
A train rolls through the North district
Past cliff drive
And the rain splattered paths
Where factory lights flicker
And highways trail off
Where casinos glow
And the river runs muddy and quick.
We stopped by the stone archway to sit.
They held my hand and said, I’m sorry.
While my curls hid the tears on my face
And all I could muster was, it’s okay.
And the sun went down completely
And silence played the fiddle
As we walked the way home.
And a chasm lie between us,
An illusion of the planet
Merely spinning on its side.