The streetlights hang like globes of fire,
some quite new, some need to retire.
Poles made of pine, concrete and steel.
They block out the darkness and the night they steal.
That bubble of light could keep you safe,
but outside that ring you could be raped.
The darkness can break down the strong and consume the wary,
a strong imagination makes this all quite scary.
Places dark and unfamiliar,
in the shadows could be a serial killer.
Play in smart and don’t be stupid,
or you will wish you were never lucid.


The Tree

I tip my head all the way back,
sitting on the picnic table; the one with the crack.
The tree I’m under is full and green.
The top branches sway in the slight breeze.
I never knew how beautiful were these things; this tree.
The colors put my heart at ease.
There’s green, gray and blue peaking through
I’d like to have someone with me and that someone is you.
The dark gray, some charcoal run through its body.
I wish I could climb it but I don’t have the body.
The table is brown and the paint is peeling.
In my mind I am kneeling.
The comfort of seeing such an astonishing sight.
So wonderfully awesome a tear comes to one eye.
God created both heaven and earth,
each and every day should be our rebirth.