On a street of row houses did
One like the other not any of grand,
Abode of yesteryear all gray now
Changed from oil patch somehow.
In this strip of today's newer values
Here happens only mostly shadows,
Existing for the immediate day
Often listless piled with fray.
Except for a tiny space,
A secret garden's grace,
She's lived there forever
Vowed to leave it never.
The lady ignores the dealer's face.
Instead studies Queen Anne's Lace,
While trees drape and hide the love
From all but that one above.