Free St.

An aeroplane flies over head

as I walk down Free street

and I notice that there are geraniums growing

in the gardens behind wooden railings

There are a lot of pavers underfoot

and no one passes me by

Its not quite night

and the lamps are not yet lit

and I think of what has taken place

From one to two to one again

just me after baring my soul

for not quite an hour

its just me again

and I walk down Free Street

hands in pockets

wondering why I am the only one on the pavers

smelling the geraniums

and waiting for the light of day

to pass into the light of lamps