The night smells like it did
The coolness lingers on
the leaves on the dark blue gravel walk around
Silently they murmur
I walk to the middle of the street
empty
I forgot to look up, almost
The white sphere of a moon swims across
The dark blue blackens the sky
I see you through the bitter fruit tree
There are whispers around
The night before the first day of school
The road in front of my house
empty
And at 6 am I must wake up
to catch the bus that would pass by the same blue road at 7:15 dot.
The essence of the night of the summer, it remains the same
But
No school reopens tomorrow
No bus shall slow down in front of my gate
Old friends
Old names
The bus conductor’s face
The neighbour who shifted after school got over
No
None of that
There are whispers around
The summer breeze blows away yesterday
Today I walk back inside
To the home that has remained
The bus does still pass by my gate at a similar time
It only doesn’t slow down
Because it knows not for whom
Subrosa Lane 