STREET

The roads are always quiet,

since not too many students

live in these houses near the school.

Most of the people I pass are old,

walking their dogs

in the same bent-over way.

They smile at me and say hello,

even though I don’t know them.

I always stop to pet their dogs.

I don’t usually turn on

any other streets, but today

I take only one right and one left,

so I’ll remember the

way back.

The houses down this street

are chipped and crumbling.

They look like my old house.

A kid shouts from

somewhere up ahead,

so I follow the sound.

When I get closer, I see

it’s Greg, bouncing a ball

up and down, shouting like

he’s some kind of sports

announcer or something.

A woman sits on the porch,

watching him. I’m not too close

to them, but even from here

I can see her skin,

darker than Greg’s,

and her wheelchair.