the song

I was sitting on the front porch of a house I didn’t grow up in
and most would say this is not proper etiquette, but I promise
a handful of people nearby do the same thing, quieted by cats
in their afternoon battles with dying leaves stepped upon by
some people with a lightness that captivates and confuses me
the way sunburns sting thinner faces on days when it doesn’t rain
but the neighborhood came close as I hoped I’d find that boy walking
across the yard of the house I didn’t grow up in, but I do know a
boy had lived behind its door, that he sang so loudly before the night.

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