streets and sidewalks,
turning these row homes into
something grand. People came out on linked
porches to marvel, somehow lighter.
Today, it rained, the pink
turned to gray. Block after block,
row houses remain. Difficult
to see family here, where wilderness once
prevailed. Difficult today to see past
one woman’s ranting, “You don’t look
American.”
Today's prompt comes from Sunday Scribblings: to write of family. I'll be thinking of this prompt all week; today I started with our family neighborhood here in Philadelphia.
what a marvelous undertaking.. i will have to come back over the course of the week and see where you take this......
ReplyDeleteAlmost, I'm there, with the cherry blossoms on the old street and the ranting voice wafting up to the porch.
ReplyDelete