Twenty Five East

i walked out on my stoop
looked about the brick street
where the cars were parked
the neighbor next door (a cop)
just got off work
his gun and belt slung over his back

the lawn littered
with cigarette butts
the ones we forgot about since winter
the snow covered the yard
and presented us with an ashtray
"we'll see you again in spring"

and now we do
a disgusting display
of the cold nights when
we huddled beneath the overhang
the beer in the living room
for outside it would freeze our hands

what were we thinking?
the summer gets closer
each month is our change
for the day when we all must part
where no longer we share this house
with each other

goodbye old green duplex
we hardly knew ye.