Down Lampson

I walk the two blocks
to pick up milk
down Lampson
by the apartment complexes
I’ve passed for years.

How buildings age.
Banisters rust,
shutters loosen and sag,
small faultlines spread
and pebbles of cement
spill from the cracks.
A yellow shade pulled down,
an outdoor light that burned
all the time, day and night,
is finally still.

The bathrooms are stacked     
one story over another,
frosted glass louvers
thick with minerals
and behind them,
distorted and fractured,
shampoo and soaps
and plastic containers
huddle together
between storms.

Published in Rip Rap, ZuZu’s Petals

Photo by Jarrod Reed on Unsplash