The street

There is a certain understanding between
the old man and the street.
He has played here when there was no pavement, in the sand.
He shared his first kiss underneath that lantern,
now electric, where he would like to stand again
but a car is parked there, quite obscene.
The street remembers him, making sure he won’t fall over,
carefully letting him step over the pieces of brick sticking out.
The houses watch with hidden curiosity, a curtain trembles,
and the café door opens to give him a welcome
of spirituals and other rituals
and he will have some.
But then he will go back to the place
he calls home.  As the lantern now
shines a different sort of light.

Comments on: "The street" (4)

  1. This is terrific, Ina – the way you’ve personified the street, the lantern, the houses, the cafe door, bring it vividly to life. I especially like ‘spirituals and other rituals’ and the way you’ve described the car as ‘quite obscene’. It reads quite delicately, but underneath this is a really strong piece – I love it.

  2. I agree with everything Nick said.

    A terrific atmospheric feel to this poem


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