Suburban walk in fall
The blue above is where clouds paint white patterns,
The sun and shade shifting as my feet advance.
The wind blows the blood red leaves to ground
To join their brown and yellow friends.
One squirrel bounds quickly cross the grass
Like a moving sinusoidal graph.
Some trees overflow with green leaf fountains,
Others are but bare and twisted bony frames.
One squirrel hops aside almost slowly,
And aged just avoids my striding legs.
A blonde boy says hello, an orange T-shirt,
With white skull and cross bones for Halloween.
Just a four year old who smiles with missing teeth
And me, a looming grizzled chap in grungy coat and cap.
Where’s your mom, where’s your dad?
I’m going to a party and sometimes grampa holds my hand.
Are your parents in the back or in the house?
Aidan rides his bike but Tristan doesn’t, on the street.
The car door stands open on the drive
A man could come and steal a child away.
The mom comes out a witch and smiles
The boy smiles too and waves his hand.
I wave back and go my way and laugh.
The crow high on the lamp post sees and caws.
The seagull glides above and screeches
At such funny happenings on suburban streets.
