dorchester street

this small street
a snippet
of concrete and scrub
grass.
squared houses with
flat roofs,
duplexes of brick,
chipped curbs
and oiled poles,
the wires sagging
with the old voices
of past and present
calls.
it holds so little.
it holds so much.
the hours
and years spent running
from side to side.
the sleds on ice
and snow.
the rain storms,
the chase
and tag of young love,
nothing could keep
you inside,
from being out
in the street.