This was a field not long ago.
Patterned houses face a street
With quarter-acre lawns or so
And landscaped trees make it complete.
The mailman stops at every home.
You’ll need a car to get somewhere.
Like stars out there we shine alone
In tiny castles all our own
But love will find friends waiting there.
Linked to dVerse Poetics – suburb poetry hosted by Oloriel.