By Rochelle Jewel Shapiro

It’s mid-afternoon, but from somewhere, an owl hoots.

Once overturned bikes were thrown down on the sidewalk
by tow-haired twins dashing to the Good Humor truck
for a cherry Bomb Pop or lemon/lime Lickety Lix.

Once you heard the twop of a baseball tossed
into a mitt and the whoops of sons chasing squirrels
that scampered off in furry waves.

Once two young men in twin rented tuxes held
the limo door open for their prom dates.

When the Twin Towers collapsed, the brothers enlisted.
After the officer and chaplain came to the door up the block,
the pair of yellow ribbons were taken down from the linden tree.

The twining vines of the honeysuckle hold back their headiness.

Rochelle Jewel Shapiro, like the heroine of her two novels, Miriam the Medium (Simon & Schuster, 2004) and Kaylee’s Ghost (2012) is a professional psychic. Her essays have appeared in The New York Times (Live), Newsweek, and more. Her poetry, essays, and short stories are in the MacGuffin, Permafrost, The Iowa Review, and in many anthologies. She teaches writing at UCLA Extension. Rochellejewelshapiro.com