Ode to My Street

Old houses.
Old people.
Everyone has their own space,
Everyone can see the church steeple.
No kids my age,
They’re on the next street.
Walk outside to smell dandelions.
There’s nothing as sweet.
Blue, green, wood, brick,
Two-story, split-level,
Each house with their own personality.
Neat manicured lawns,
And lawns sprinkled with leaves, and tall grasses.
New shiny mailboxes filled with mail.
Old rusty mailboxes stacked on brick,
And filled with bills.
Not a very busy street.
everyone looks up with surprise,
When they see a bus,
Or the police.
Everyone’s as friendly as a ladybug,
Even to the big old crack up the street.
It’s only us, and our variety of cars.

Only toddlers,
With tricycles to ride on,
But we’re happy.
As happy as could be!
On our quiet, friendly, tranquil street.


Kealing Middle School

7th