Memory Lane

| No Comments
            

She strains at the leash,
Trying to turn the corner.
"Not that way," I say.

But Ella insists,
So I give in and follow.
Not that big a deal.

This short, narrow lane,
It's a valid path back home,
Not such a detour.

Along the sidewalk
We rush, my arm stretched out straight,
Not pausing to sniff.

She stops at the porch,
Looks at the door, looks at me,
Not old now but young.

We were gone six years,
Back now in the neighborhood
Not even six weeks.

I wish we could knock,
But our friends are not at home,
Not now, not for years.

They fled this city
Even sooner than we did,
Not fond of Gotham

But fond of our dog,
Who wags on their former stoop,
Not fenced in by time.

Their former stoop

Leave a comment

The Accidental Terrorist 30th Anniversary Sale

Signed editions
cheaper than your
local Mormon
missionaries.

Order yours now!

William Shunn

About This Entry

This page contains a single entry by William Shunn published on August 29, 2013 10:12 AM.

A benefit for the Chicago Writers Conference, tomorrow night! was the previous entry in this blog.

Glitter & mayhem & music is the next entry in this blog.

Find recent content on the main index or look in the archives to find all content.

Archives