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LAGUNA STREET
A back dated copy of US News
Stained by roasted garlic flavored
Extra virgin olive oil,
The neighbors have moved away,
In this silence, I miss their children’s noise
I resent the refrigerator rumbling so.
On Laguna Street the cars come and go,
Geese squawk by
On their way to Ellis Lake,
Branches are pencil drawings against a gray sky,
Works of art that never sold.
Autumn leaves seasoned by winter rain
Are sequestered in the patio,
A pair of bicycles with flat tires
Is chained to a tree trunk.
We live outdoors in almond groves,
Row after row in camping huts,
And plan to walk through tulip meadows,
Mind numb with color,
Counting tulips to go to sleep.
Is there a lesson in this to learn?
Write me a five hundred-word story,
Call it ‘ The clouds will go,
there will be sun’.
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