“Every Streetlight a Reminder” by Nicole Nicholson


Do withered leaves collect at your feet?
Do memories in mind collect for you, sweet?
Was it some girl ere you loved?
Did ideologies make push come to shove?
Does it rain in your bedroom or in your heart?
Did a busy life drive two loves apart?
Was she red, yellow, brown, black or white?
Who did you once love, Mr. Stipe?