The streetlights speak of passing feet,
swift goodbyes, and lingering eyes
Up the mango tree I go,
as sweet drippings ping below
and palms brush along the flow
of the wind’s ever whispering all-day show.
One—Two—Three, it goes
Up—Down, it plays
Squeezing life from the lips
of memories gone to every sip
leave once more and evermore
Oh how the streetlights speak, as they fade
and the red lifts darkness from mystique,
and every note still yet to play.
Listen under the streetlights,
a thousand songs still hum along
Climb the mountain—look out to sea
make room for sand between the toes
and a gentle caress upon the soul
Climb, look out, make room—once more,
a new tide washes upon this seamless shore,
and laughter awaits—
on the other side
of the open door.