Saturday, October 29, 2005

Spanish Town Porch

It occurs to me as I watch the January rain come down

in hard, grey Saturday afternoon sheets,

That I have loved these streets with

their damp laughter and dusty sighs,

I have savored moments spent under

this skeletal canopy, with its thin silvery specters

so many ghosts crowded into an empty doorway,

peering down in silence at laughing couples running

hand-in-hand down January's crooked sidewalk,

the call of calliope in pursuit of them

as they rush towards dry rooms and warm kisses.