Poetry Porch: Poetry


by Robert K. Johnson

In both directions, the rows
of brick-tiered building are nothing
but blackness. The empty cars

along the curb are lumps
of steel, shrouded in shadows.
Nor does one darting car—
not even a taxi cab—

push headlights through the street.
                                  So you,
gazing from a window
in a dim apartment right

across from mine, and I,
behind my windowpane,
are alone in the city together.

Copyright © 2012 by Robert K. Johnson.