Old Neighborhood

by Bernie McCann

The houses all look different now

Tell me what you see
when you look through window squares
through the falling years

Because it seems it's always Monday here
on this cool spring day
with the sunlight clear as glycerin

And I can still smell it
the smell of damp wood
from the bucket of clothespins

It must be wash day

But it is thirty years now
since I slept in the backroom
or stepped onto the creaking porch

or picked up sunbeams

I never knew
where all the shiny dust belonged.

19-Mar-2006

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