Sun going down over the river -
Melting into the abandoned factories
Standing stubbornly alongside the viaducts
Neon lights of the saloons glowing
Chinese restaurants emitting inviting scent
Contradicted by the foul odor of grease
From cheap burger joints and seedy bars
And the stench of oil from the refineries
Watching the liquification of day into night
Smoking another cigarette on her fire escape
Frances stares down at the street amused
While a stumbling drunk sings his way home

Dented garbage cans overflowing with refuse
Offerings to the homeless and to the alley cats:
The neighborhood taking care of its own
Sizzling frying pans, clinking of plastic dishes
Slamming doors and pounding footsteps
Familiar voices raised in argument next door
Babies crying non-stop, children singing silly songs
Meanwhile, Frances sits comforted by it all
Brought to this haven by her heart in love
"And your people shall be my people..."
She lights yet another cigarette and exhales
Perhaps tonight he will come back home...

2000 poetheart

go back