Tuesday, March 16, 2010

22 Seneca Street

The street on whose corner
lived the little house
(that once seemed big)
trimmed in yellow,
surrounded by white wooden fence.

The street of my childhood.

Do the sounds still echo there?
- bicycle tires
speeding over your gravelly surface
- little girl footsteps
running and jumping rope
- dancing feet on the pavement
in dress-up clothes
- the quiet swooshing of sleds
when you were blanketed in snow.

Do the voices still fill the air?
- "Can Chris come out
and play?"
- "Shep! Come here!"
- "Just five more minutes Mom;
- the laughter, secrets and

You run right through my heart.

Join us for this week's RAP: streetwise poetry