Back to the Porch Light

The screen door creaks like it always did. Grandma's laugh floats where the breeze

hit. Kids on a swing, the old oak tree.

The ghosts of us still running free. Back to the porch light

where we belong. Sharing the stories, the right and wrong. Faces are faded,

but the love's still strong. Back to the porch light where we belong.

Aunt Mary hums, her hands in dough. Uncle Joe's jokes

still steal the show. Photo albums worn with care. We're not all

here, but we're everywhere. The clock ticks slow. The world stands