Spanish Town Porch

It occurs to me as I watch the January rain come down


in hard, grey Saturday afternoon sheets,


That I have loved these streets with


their damp laughter and dusty sighs,


I have savored moments spent under


this skeletal canopy, with its thin silvery specters


so many ghosts crowded into an empty doorway,


peering down in silence at laughing couples running


hand-in-hand down January's crooked sidewalk,


the call of calliope in pursuit of them


as they rush towards dry rooms and warm kisses.

10.29.2005