Out here it’s all mostly nothing.
It’s the row of scrub trees;
A chain link fence to divide that
Patch of yard from this.
Out here the horizon is a friend:
She doesn’t have much to say,
Her mind filled with a run-on, tension
Wire conversation that never ends.
Out here an oak tree is true love;
And a water tower stands sentinel
To all the children’s dreams of
Falling, and flying away.
Out here, the overpass goes to
The softball fields, and the Casey’s,
Plain spoken hellos at an amble
Speed.
Here along the sidewalk
The bike path the road the drive
That heads out
Home.
Plain
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About the Author
Elizabeth G. Howard is poet, journalist, and digital marketing specialist. She founded Demand Poetry in 2008, writing original poetry at virtual and live at events on her Olivetti 33 typewriter. Her writing has been published in Boston Literary Magazine, American Craft, Bentlily among many others. She is member of the Writing Workshop Kansas City and a resident of the Writer’s Colony at Dairy Hollow. She calls Iowa, London, and Kansas City home.
