An Ordinary Morning in Dublin Street
A Poem
By Miranda XhilagaPublished 6 years ago • 1 min read
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... My old Maltese drags along his weak back limbs
his tail follows
at her doorstep, the overweight lady
tries to reach for her toes
as if to prove to herself
that bending over is a memory of the past
the voluptuous widow on the opposite side
hangs over her balcony
tracing the night’s footsteps
a nightingale flying over my head loses grip of the grain.
Oh, one of the branches of the pear tree is broken!
My neighbour swears at the youth that last night
graffiti sprayed over his brand new fence
the lollipop man loses his glasses
which the passing car, instantly crashes
the hand that wrote these lines
my o my
belongs to the lady that is now running late
watching the neighbourhood go by…
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