Auburn Road

September’s tan-skirt sunglass-blonds disappear around the strawberry-red potted-flower curves of Auburn Road’s beige sidewalks and they might think me a park-bench lunatic or a lecherous fiend as I watch wearing the half-smile of memory, and I might be both, and some days worse, and some days I might even be a bit better– but it’s a sunshine afternoon on Auburn Road, an afternoon when the loves that could never be– live for another amber moment in the skirt-leg sauntering strides of passersby; I whisper a goodbye to each, hoping that no one takes notice, and hoping that perhaps– someone might.

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