An Alley...

i am just an alley
where you must pass
i only listen to the waters
after the rain
and like you they pass me by
i am a friend of the gutter
we speak the same
language
there are stones on my belly
the rats come at night
the sweepers on
bright days
i am not a street
and so i have no name yet.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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