Seven-Thirty Sunset

just driving home today

Anthony Uplandpoet Watkins

As grandmother and toddler

turn towards home

and the Hispanic boy

with a gold necklace

runs through a back yard

and the Haitian girl tosses

a worn brown

basketball to her young nephews

life flows out onto the narrow

streets of lake worth

in the hot yellow air

that turns all the colors

black in silhouette.

The almost chill rustles the uncut palms

and thrusts paper wrappers

against sagging chain-link fences

and the nine o’clock sunset

is still two months away

but the thin old man

steps into the street and closes

the door on his Chevy

glad to be home

before dark.

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