The Streets

By Jessica Haugen

I walked across an empty street
I felt its pathway on my hands and feet
I felt the earth of better days
As I rewound to recollection's haze
Oh taken thing, where have you gone?

I'm growing old, and I need something more to lean on
So, tell me when can blind men see?
And deaf can hear, when pain will be set free

From ancient oak, there hung a swing
Collecting thoughts and sights of better things
Is Hope a name we used to love?
Is this the place that I have long dreamed of?

If humanity could open unwilling eyes
Life's subtlety of time has spread its wings to the sky
This could be extinction of everything but low
So why don't we travel somewhere only we know?

Let us create a path, uncovered and unknown
And fill the trees with memories, the earth with how we've grown
For footsteps are the unfilled pens, with which we choose to write
The footsteps of our memories are candles we must light

Photo by Ruth Marco

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