The main street bathed in neon lights,
long lines of red, yellow, and green
reflecting off white, black, silver cars
with windows shadowed in the night,
headlights boring holes in the darkness.

The main street bathed in silence,
broken here and there with a shout
or car horn, freight train or drunken laugh
echoing for a moment across the paved valley,
bouncing off the hills and dissolving in the river.

The main street bathed in ragged glamour,
safe danger, comforting hostility.
I am a native outsider in the dark,
under the neon lights, between empty windows
of brick palaces long gone.

Published by Hannah Kennedy

Hannah is an old lady at heart, with a deep love of yarn and floral patterns. She has curly hair, she is a lefty, she googles everything, and her favorite color is blue. She can usually be found reading everything from nineteenth-century fiction to modern psychology, doing yoga, dragging out chores to fit the podcast she's listening to, or watching The Office with her husband.

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