|
The old women sat on stoops and talked of finer times and better days as summer heat bounce off the walls of tired tenement brick. They fanned themselves and talked about the old country with a wistfulness that belied the reasons they struggled to America's shores; but I think...a rumination of lost youth, not better days... that existed in faulty memories. The boys played stickball on narrow city streets. The girls watched and fed their sweet desires, as faded scents of dinner hugged the evening heat. The sun glowed orange behind the pigeon coops on rooftop peaks. Birds cood, flew and swooped before their evening sleep. Mothers called from windows to their kids, come on in...your father wants you home, RIGHT NOW! The old women stood, brushed their clothes, readied to come in; and when their hair undone, on tear-stained pillows lay, they dreamed... of streets paved with gold. |
|
Garden of Grasses Home Page |
Garden of Grasses Guestbook |