Dim light behind drawn curtains,

gossamer odors of supper,

mumbled sounds of a summer evening.

Bikes asleep on a darkened porch

while children chase the moon

through fields of grass.


Across the street a sprinkler

flicks and rustles over flowerbeds,

outside a bungalow where no one lives tonight.

A streetlight at the corner

illuminates an asphalt circle, while a car

ticks softly down the street.


Oh child, so far from home,

so long away,

a stranger in this distant town,

the yellow blooms of spring are gone,

bright laughing girls gone gray,

and still you wander darkened streets





© Russ Lewis 1998

Rescued and edited, August, 2016