While the world was green and natural
My mother would lead us fresh from dream
Unto the crevices of the sidewalks of dawn
Where sunshine’s heat bathed the concrete pavement
And with our touches we’d feel the blistered banisters
That would slide us down.
The first signs of traffic which turned over from evening
Felt slow in this shallow world of the early hour
Though no farther than a glance across the sky
Or intersections where headlights danced in line
And the Gods shone on us politely
To lead my mother’s hands
Through the break of morning.

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