Before the city awakens
Long before
the sound of traffic
replaces the quiet
In the quiet of the morning
I sit where the evening
left its stories
The porch is a collector of stories
holding memories
holding truths
convenient or inconvenient
holding community
Dates ending
Family gatherings
Pictures before the prom
A wedding or two
laughter
debates
arguments
advice
confessions
quiet love
wordless moments
The porch has listened
and soaked
and now shares
Sitting quietly
feeling that energy
the residual emotion
the boards remember
the railings echo it
the porch
still telling stories
This porch
has heard things
never meant
for the street
the railings
have held
trembling hands
the steps
have caught
falling tears
Not everyone
who steps here
becomes one
of the ‘porch people’
some only visited
some passed through
and one stood
on the sidewalk
by the road
close enough
to hear the laughter
never welcome on the boards
but those who do
carry the stories with them
long after they leave
The porch has listened
through summer laughter
and winter breath
through jackets pulled tight
and fireflies drifting past the railings
Every porch keeps a future
just as it keeps a past
and those who sit long enough
begin to hear both
Come sit on the porch
See where you fit
Add to the stories
© Ron Simpson Jr.
March 10, 2026
