Poetry and Writes

33rd Street (POEM)

Riding my bicycle in the evening

Down mysterious 33rd Street

The road my brother always ran to

When he felt afraid or angry.

33rd Street, the road that

Holds out its hands to you

In the reverie of oncoming night

And it ensnares you, and you must

Keep walking. "I must keep walking,"

You say to the billowing air

The air that reminisces over

The morphing of summer to autumn

That wraps you up in bittersweet

Reverence, the holy reverence that

Assures you of why you must keep

Walking. 33rd Street, the road

My brother walked too far down,

33rd Street, the road that

Swallowed him whole, 33rd

Street, the road that churns

The spokes of my bicycle, pulling

Me, pulling me, reeling me, reeling me,

Into the dangerous mysterious

Consuming darkness, where my

Feet work like machinery to

Carry me to my destination, the

Bleak end of the pavement of the

Potholed 33rd Street.