On the street by a crumbling grey tenement of old white sneakers and coffee pots, blue clotheslines and floral wallpaper a young mother sits on her porch folding her son's laundry her eyes darting from button to fly wondering what she could make him for supper
I stop gather damp newspapers and discarded plastic bottles that lined the curb and stare long at the mother whose hand gently flattens the creases that run down the faded denim legs of her beloved, ******* child
I light a small fire in the rain.
Based off of Galway Kinnell's poem, "Under the Maud Moon."