They wander past the streets
or maybe the streets wander past them
The blurred melodies of car engines
the forests of parked cars.
The stores trickle down the road.
The last one is boarded and quiet
like the colorless sky
and the chorus of
traveler’s footfalls whisper
The street ends here
or maybe it begins.
Zachariah Claypole White is 15 and a student at Camelot Academy in Durham, North Carolina. He’s been writing poetry since he was 8 and is a student webmaster for the Gilbert-Chappell Distinguished Poet Series, organized by the North Carolina Poetry Society (Zachariah is a former winner in the series). He loves to read, write, and play his guitar.
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