Naomi Shihab Nye - Streets

A man leaves the world <br />and the streets he lived on <br />grow a little shorter. <br /> <br />One more window dark <br />in this city, the figs on his branches <br />will soften for birds. <br /> <br />If we stand quietly enough evenings <br />there grows a whole company of us <br />standing quietly together. <br />overhead loud grackles are claiming their trees <br />and the sky which sews and sews, tirelessly sewing, <br />drops her purple hem. <br />Each thing in its time, in its place, <br />it would be nice to think the same about people. <br /> <br />Some people do. They sleep completely, <br />waking refreshed. Others live in two worlds, <br />the lost and remembered. <br />They sleep twice, once for the one who is gone, <br />once for themselves. They dream thickly, <br />dream double, they wake from a dream <br />into another one, they walk the short streets <br />calling out names, and then they answer.<br /><br />Naomi Shihab Nye<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/streets/