Morning Poem, November 24, 2014

I remember the old street
And the old dirt alley running behind the houses
The clotheslines and tomato vines in every backyard.

The chain-link fences
And the low whir of the pushmowers
Slicing across the little rectangles of lawn.

I remember the old sunrises
The smell of bacon and newsprint
The taste of eggs, salted and peppered
The children walking to school
with their lunchboxes and bookbags.

I remember the old sunsets
The long shadows of the trees and houses
The vivid-pink sky
The quiet old couples
rocking on their porches.

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