Thoughts stuck to the ground,

counting steps as the cool breeze sweep away

leaves of dark green and lighter ones;

the November sky a little periwinkle and the clouds

a tinge of lavender


Passing houses with closed off reserve,

and those open; welcoming,

Wonder how much goes on within those walls –

the shouts that morph into whispers,

the bruises: visible and invisible


The wild greenery claws their way

up from the earth, crawling for the sun,

the rain. Invading the concrete spaces that

murdered its

family –


A trike drives by,

another life. Another secret,

like the doctor who lives across,

the teacher inside another –



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