Reblogged from Poetry Breakfast:
The Girl Next Door
By PD Lyons
When I remember
Third floor windows
Tall white lace sails
Summer all running in our veins
Her mother in the kitchen
Making cool aid and plate full of something
Cookie sweet to eat
She wanted me to stay
I was afraid, wanted to go home
But didn’t want her to know
Not wanting to be in this house of too many windows…












