The Streetlight

You were a child, without the hindrance of responsibility or doubt of what tomorrow would bring. A beast on the kickball field, and yet a whining baby when the streetlights went off. Always fighting sleep like it was the neighborhood bully. You were a clown, dressed like your daddy. Trying to make your mother laugh like he did. You got better at it every day. You were a gift, at least that’s what your mother said. And now she sits outside, on the porch looking out toward the streetlight. Waiting for it to go dark, knowing you won’t be coming home. But, You’re already there, shining down from a streetlight in the sky. Waiting for when it’s her turn to come home. -James Kelley, All rights reserved.