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.
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