It’s morning in the suburbs.
I live in a neighborhood called Deerwood
in a house on a street called Leswood, but
with only a manicured lawn, no trees.
A phantom arm hurls newspapers out
a van to my broom-swept cement driveway.
“Today’s gonna be a scorcher” relays
from the radio to my neighbor Bob
to my mailman Brian then to me.
A school bus stops by the retention pond,
where chain-link fences in a flock of cranes.
On my commute to the office I move
the visor as I turn toward the sun
that pierces my vision as it rises,
cutting through the morning humidity.
—Photo credit: LancerE/Flickr
About Chris Wiewiora
Chris,
Well painted!!
It may sound so bloody bourgeois, but that very scene is were I was born. Its where I grew-up and was abused. Its the scene I was denied full enjoyment of. I SO wanted to be a suburban kid with frivolity on-tap. I could only watch in confused, distant amazement.
Returning to this picture above became my goal. I wanted my children to enjoy what I watched decades ago. I got there. Rather, I got it for them. My kids are there. I just don’t get to see much of it…LOL.
Gotta LOL, or I’ll COL.