Dreams and Streets

You would never return here
if not for the girl
you fell for
on the bus rides home.
Sometimes you remember
her name, but mostly
wheat-blonde hair,
the last day of school
and ninety-six degrees.

She had a wood gate to unlock
before the bus
would lurch again.

Streets never lead
where they should.
Leave town
and they follow you.
Veer shamelessly
into Mike’s driveway
where there is no path
and no car
and no Mike.

But we walk them anyway.
The songs change
and we attempt bad harmonies;

never mind the glass door
where it shouldn’t be,
that Alice’s family
doesn’t live there
anymore, that the nice folks
behind the gate now deny
she ever lived there
at all.

Added: February 17, 2012 | Last changed: May 11, 2014