Barefoot in the street
Toes stubbed and scratched from wicked
Concrete.
The chill of fall carries
The waning sunlight into the trees.
It turns their leaves
Red as wine,
Killing them with beauty.
Voices carry
But they reveal nothing.
Everyone sees the boy in the road
Taking a photograph
And then walking off
Alone.
By the time the sky has dimmed
Everything is
Just beginning.
Where is the promise of
painful truth and
the bitter surprise
of comfort?
Don’t let it catch
You sleeping
While the real daydream
Has come.