The reflection in the puddle of the alley
soon shattered by the drop of rain
is a perfect little vision in a damp back street

The towering sides of the lane loom over me
two sides of the brick canyon slide up the hill
making a grand vision of an unnatural landscape

Things sit in the alleys mutely telling their tale
old windows grey with dust watching stories unfold
the grimy blackened corners show a vision of the past

You never looked at the alley before
never noticed its hidden life or its tales
until you saw the world through my eyes

Now you see an old battered door surrounded by faded bricks
it looks like a worn old man ready to share his tales
you have found your own visions hidden in the unloved places


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