Walking a street strewn with all sorts of relics 

Broken glass 

Those prickly little burrs

Pamphlets from hair salons 

Cigarette butts

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 

Windows glowing 

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. 

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. 


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s