"Time for bed, Son."

in the alley
in the autumn
in the evening
reverie

in the shadows
of the night time
in cool air
mystery

near the crooked
and the crumbling
there, aging
like a poem

secret places
forgotten spaces
my boyhood's
hidden home

past the backyards
past the old sheds
around fences
debris strewn

after supper
in the alley
there I sat
beneath the moon