The Green Garden Of Suburbia

and that obnoxiously plastic bag
rolls and races artistically
across the lawn, pretentiously
trying to keep up with the Jones'
Japanese water garden next door.
Somewhere amongst the shrubs
Robert's football rests next to an egg
unfound on the Easter search.
The silence of sunlight picks up the air
brushing the grass. Somewhere
children shriek beneath a sprinkler,
and an ice-cream van drives the streets.
'Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head'
tinkles from the East and West,
the deceptive siren of summer.
I have followed that sound
down every street over time,
running to keep it within my horizon.
When I stop I find it behind me.