All in an Unpaved Alley

I do get it sometimes: something

for nothing, freedom

walking in an unpaved alley

in a paved-over city.

Off kilter fences, slats leaning

this way and that. Painted, peeling,

garages. Gravel

and untended greenery.

Garbage and thorns

and sometimes

even a berry or two.

Sometimes: a reminder of what I used to know

I wanted, hard to find

now that I’m here.

Sometimes: a sense of what came before,

how this place was.

All the neighbors and kids

that have existed here
washed away like the gravel underfoot,

shifting unnoticed by the people

who see it everyday.