Sunday, September 19, 2010

Mina V. Kirby

It’s a quiet neighborhood
that I live in
where people hang
wind chimes
in their patios
walk dogs
in the cool
of the evening
and put trash out
by the curb
every Wednesday

The man
in the house
just west of mine
took his own life
the other day
wiping out
at least for himself
a dark cloud of despair

On the porch
of the house
on the east side
sits a young mother
sobbing uncontrollably
The father
of her baby
has left them
to search
for what he thinks
will be a better life

The guy
across the street
his face twisted in anger
drunkenly lurches
into his car
screeches out of the driveway
with a parked truck
down the block

my second story
bedroom window
sunshine splatters itself
across the back yard
A soft breeze
flutters the trees
Two squirrels
chase one another
along the top of the fence
and three little crowlets
soar from tree to tree
cawing in delight
that they
are learning
to fly

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