The Alley

The alley behind my house
is of the virgin earth,
unpaved,
a country lane
bewildered
in the heart of town.

Old trees,
deeply rooted over time,
rim the rutted track,
oblivious to our urban sprawl.

The first few drops of rain
smell so much sweeter
in the alley
than the street.

Here,
I am a child again,
wandering barefoot in the harmless dirt.