Yesterday, I thought of my neighbors and their circumstances. We rarely communicate with each other- quick waves and perfunctory questions. The saying came to mind that everyone we meet is fighting something so just be kind.
music blasting,
joint in hand,
fighting the cancer within him.
Stable for now.
Two doors down,
all is quiet,
drink in hand,
wondering if he was ever enough.
She has moved on.
Across the street,
resentments kept in check -
retirement plans gone,
caring for a grown son
whose legs are now four wheels.
Elsewhere on my street -
A gay couple planting a garden,
pride flag flying.
A man raising his children alone,
his wife overdosed,
left him to keep trying.
A man and his daughter, both disabled and gray -
the son-in-law the only one
who ever sees the light of day.
A couple, children all grown,
his mother and special-needs brother
have come here to stay.
Close by -
Kids speak Spanish, shoot hoops until dark,
as their father works
and their little dog barks.
Are they safe here?
A man lives alone, sheets for his curtains,
cuts his grass with precision,
walks with a purpose,
asks for rosemary and thyme
if I am out when he passes.
We’re united
by a street name,
distinguished by our pains,
seeking happiness
among the ruins of life lived.
We’re really much the same
you know -
on every street,
in every town,
beneath every roof -
a life lived as circumstance allows.
Poetry by Melinda K Zarate
Read 33 times
Written on 2025-08-05 at 15:29
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What the Curtains Hide
My neighbor next door,music blasting,
joint in hand,
fighting the cancer within him.
Stable for now.
Two doors down,
all is quiet,
drink in hand,
wondering if he was ever enough.
She has moved on.
Across the street,
resentments kept in check -
retirement plans gone,
caring for a grown son
whose legs are now four wheels.
Elsewhere on my street -
A gay couple planting a garden,
pride flag flying.
A man raising his children alone,
his wife overdosed,
left him to keep trying.
A man and his daughter, both disabled and gray -
the son-in-law the only one
who ever sees the light of day.
A couple, children all grown,
his mother and special-needs brother
have come here to stay.
Close by -
Kids speak Spanish, shoot hoops until dark,
as their father works
and their little dog barks.
Are they safe here?
A man lives alone, sheets for his curtains,
cuts his grass with precision,
walks with a purpose,
asks for rosemary and thyme
if I am out when he passes.
We’re united
by a street name,
distinguished by our pains,
seeking happiness
among the ruins of life lived.
We’re really much the same
you know -
on every street,
in every town,
beneath every roof -
a life lived as circumstance allows.
Poetry by Melinda K Zarate
Read 33 times
Written on 2025-08-05 at 15:29
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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Uncle Meridian |
