A Little Spooky


Already tearing down some of the old houses.
Couldn’t be that much power in the whole world.
They were too solid, too while.
Soon there would be no Grandmama’s house.
Driving through Shorter…
Remembering the red dusty days sitting on the porch.
Watching it all go by.
No more porches now.
too many ghosts.
No more Shorter.

by Angela Johnson

Johnson, Angela. The other side: Shorter pieces. New York: Orchard Books, 1998. Print.



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Filed under Poetry, Reading

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