379 words
A Neighborhood
My heart’s a stranger now to what
Is left, the peeling paint, each rut
Where once was order, color, life,
But now seems filled with futile strife.
Small streets within an angled space
Where roofs pushed down on us at night,
For all was waiting to ignite.
Lace tracery of leaves through light
Inspired thoughts so sharp and tight,
I often wish we could repeat