MY BLOCK

                         By: Jacques Dimitriou    

               

                 When walking down my block there’s a sound of chirping birds going “Chirp, chirp”, wind blowing through the tall pine trees, the smell of fresh pine cones, and sometimes even barbeque fresh off the grill. Feeling the ground beneath your feet, the wind blowing through your hair. Looking at the big houses, people saying “Hello” to one another.

                 House’s looking down at you a cheetah staring down his pray. The wind keeping you conferred like a friend. The cars roaring down the street as a king lion protecting his jungle. The green grass growing day in and day out like a kid hitting his growth spur. Dogs barking at nothing but its self. You looking down the street like there’s no tomorrow.

                When hitting the end of my street, there’s my neighborhood. Seeing different faces, different cars, different houses like as if you just woke up in a new world. Seeing the different cars going “zoom……zoom” down the street. Herring kids laugh, playing basketball on a bootleg court. Feeling bugs hitting your hand like someone trying to get your attention.