What is it about these streets
I walk every so often?
I could be anywhere in the land.
I could believe these were the streets I grew up on.
The pause of deja vu sameness must mean something;
why the feelings raised to intense?
Is it just the acknowledgement 
of connection with other people? just here
I could believe we're all the same:
putting the same stuff into the same bins,
kicking along the same stones.
Is it a silent cry against the times I have to live through?
The thought "Is this all there is!" So sad.
Is it the tantalizing idea that 
through these doors and windows
eye-opening drama plays out?
Tales that should be told- heartwarming or shocking.
What is it about these streets?