Between Houses (A Donkeyland Poem)

Between Houses
(A Donkeyland Poem)

Bedroom Window (Part One)

My prayers were said (at 10:30 PM) and the neighbors were at rest—
(so it seemed, their lights were off
anyway, and the street—Cayuga,
outside our second story ledge,
somewhat vacant). And the night,
the night with its rich shinning
arch lights seeped through
our attic bedroom window;
and I could hear, hear
(through the stillness)
mother downstairs,her presence, sounds of her voice
footsteps, they calmed me,
helped me get to sleep.….


Tires (Part Two)

Between the three housesa wired fence stoodand trees and chimneysand arch lights in the frontand the hot, hot summer
was just bearable—
(especially in the attic bedroom)
I often heard the sounds of tires
going by: wet, dry, screaming
tires, tires, tires—it made me
feel alive, almost tranquilized
me to a faster sleep.


#1513 It was back in the late 50s or early 60s, our neighborhood, considered the worse troublesome spot in St. Paul, Minnesota, had its stillness, its tranquility. As I grew older, the rest of the kids in the neighborhood grew older, and that stillness I felt at 10 to 12-years old left, so it seemed, lasted but a few years, and the neighborhood grew wild with the kids, and the nights longer, and the car tires louder. Yet none of the kids were unkind to the parents that lived their, they actually were very respectful, in comparisons of today. Perhaps their was an unhidden code in our hearts, or our parents would whip our ass if we were disrespectful. Nowadays, parents shy away from that and the results, is rudeness and blatant disrespect.