Hillside Drive

a sadness grows
where nothing blooms
i think of you sitting
in that room – i think
of myself, racing down
those streets, arriving at
Hillside Drive, where my
childhood shadows reside
and swim in the dimming
sunlight of those days – do they sleep? or
do they still trespass across
your mind? or have they
slipped away, allowing
for other things to stay and
spook you with grief over time,
i remember kicking up gravel and leaves
waiting for the bus on those
mornings you must have sat through
quietly, reading a romance novel
while he drank sweetened tea
___
backdated Post a Day poem for April 7th, 2017

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