At 13 Past 7 by Ian Rhodes

At 13 past 7 

the sun sets  

on the maroon town 

surrounded by acres of farmland 

and pure wilderness 

at 40 Lebanon St. 

the maroon hound sits 

by the maroon pool 

The squirrel in the oak tree 

just out of reach 

scampers on by 

The maroon hound,  

he whimpers and cries 

as the maroon squirrel  

scurries away 

At the maroon school  

down the road, 

the maroon student 

sit in his class 

The teacher speaks softly, 

preaching Robert Frost, 

while the maroon student 

falls nearly asleep 

He dreams of a new life, 

for a new hound to walk by every day, 

for a new color 

At 13 past 7 

The sun sets on  

the silver city, 

the hustle and bustle of 

silver cars and trains alive as ever 

At 20 W 72nd St. 

the silver hound sits 

alone in the silver apartment 

At the silver office 

down the street, 

the maroon worker  

sits at his desk 

His boss speaks angrily, 

with constant criticism 

while the maroon worker 

silently takes it 

He longs for the maroon town,  

the maroon school, 

the maroon hound, 

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