Woman crossing the street
wearing some kind of summer slippers
late at night when the city seems
empty
Her silhouette the opposite of clowns
In the shuffling sound of her feet
children's laughter still resonates from
earlier spectacles playing hide and seek
under her
balcony
crouching behind parked cars
Each time a head was spotted
she felt as if it was hers
then the moon yelled
"Olly olly oxen free"
And knew it was about time
she took her garbage out
