Gum wrappers sunbathe in arid gutters,
lazily twitching in sultry breezes.
Unexpectedly spinning excitedly
in the gusts of running feet and
ebullient calls of “me, me”.
Leaves tango together fearfully
as young voices are dimmed
by the klaxon summons of
(Today's poem prompt from Big Tent: write a poem about what you would shout down the street.)