NaPoWriMoApril 16

They Still Call it the Suburbs




This is how the days end in April


Sitting outside with birds flying like bullets


Children screaming like banshees


A phone rings and rings and isn’t picked up


And from inside the house the sound of a dryer


Turning over and over with something stuck inside


That rattles and rolls and tears at the evening


This is how the days end in April.





This is how the nights start in April


Heat retreating as fast as the light


Cats slithering along the fence line


Eyes fixed on distant prey


Dishes clink from inside kitchens


At least in some of the houses.


And later the shades fall against the night


To hide them that crave the dark pleasures


The kind that come with needles or bottles


As children put themselves to bed.
 
(c)2010 Noreen Braman