A yellow fog lay across the suburb today.
Row after row of tired houses
With a yellow fog, heavy on the roads.
A few lights turned on, but still, the fog made everything look old and dirty.
Walking home tonight, I took the back lanes.
People in their houses, eating dinner,
the gutters by the road flowing with rain water.
The suburbs looked alive.
I passed the cancer hospital, still and empty
This time of night, the dying hours, everything is closed like broken eyes.
I think of the fog
And the midday rain.
I dream of sleeping, and waking in a new place,
Like a man who sleeps on a train
Or like a child in the car,
Falling asleep and waking in the morning,
As the family drives into the coastal town
beginning the two week holiday at the beach.
Reblogged this on boofey2010.