The Magic of Real Life

There is a place in time
That remains in my chilled mind
An evening walk
And sidewalk chalk
Playing hopscotch after a glass of wine

Lonely streets called to me
To make in me a memory
That all the others memories would envy
The soothing croon
The calming boon
Cars humming home at half-past seven fifteen

Then, to close out the night
Under a warm lamp-light
A coffee and pen
Daydreaming again
Trying to imitate the magic of real life
As I write

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