A Street Called Yesterday
There’s a street that time forgot to map,
Its lamps still glow a yellow hue,
The cobbles hum beneath your steps,
And whisper all you ever knew.
I wandered there one fog-thick night,
When rain had blurred the city’s tone,
Each echo felt like something lost,
Each shadow spoke in voices known.
I passed old doors I used to knock,
Each one a tale, each wall a friend
though I walked for what seemed hours,
The street refused to find its end.
Then from a window, soft and low,
I heard a laugh I knew by name,
I turned and saw a younger me,
Before the fire, before the flame.
He looked at me with open eyes And asked,
Did we become the man we dreamed?
I tried to speak, but words were gone,
Like leaves the autumn winds had gleaned.
And just like that, the night grew still,
The lamps went out, the echoes died,
The street was gone, the rain had stopped,
And yesterday slipped from my side.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (2)
Walking down the streets we remember past and present will present to us what we need to know. Good job.
Phenomenal writing Marie!