Back Roads III - Dustin Vado

Is this the street?
The one with the humble
South side attitude
And plain yards.

Was that the house?
It looks repainted,
And the roses are reaching
For the sun.

It always seemed desolate,
The rocks instead of grass
And rose trunks without flowers
When I was there in the winter.

This is not my street.

Obliviously passing my target,
I had to check the address--
Parked outside the fence
That no longer seems unique.

I am a stranger
Reaching for the latch 
That taunts my height
And dropping a package
I wasn’t paid to deliver.

There are other streets in my past
Whose wide mouths still call to me saying
“Remember when?”
And I reply,
“How could I forget”

This one 
Says nothing.