Monday, February 09, 2009

Somewhere In Illinois

The world smells like a wet screen door
1978 in Illinois
Woven with patches, white paint peeling
Where the cats have clawed

Rain stopped just after nightfall
Still dripping from bare trees
The sycamore groans, gravel crunches
It’s almost like going home

Then you come to me on the full moon
As clouds skirt the starless sky
Bringing me nothing that I’ve asked for
But everything I desire

And I’m back on that sad old porch
Familiar as my minds own eye
The screen door creaks, you’re there again
With me one more time

Just barely time to say goodbye
As the rain comes back to fall
The moon disappears, and you with it
Somewhere in Illinois.


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