Rebecca Allen ’25
Staff Writer
I’ve walked down
Eleventh Street
countless times
at dusk.
I’ve seen the sun
when it was nothing more than
a blazing orb,
melting into the horizon.
This evening, I run errands.
And I roll the windows down,
feeling the wind
on my hands.
I cruise through boulevards
and squint forward,
weaving through traffic.
I drive past
pharmacies and
imitation liquor stores,
car parks and taco stands
and it’s not the same.
