The Edge of the Neighborhood

Here at the edge of the neighborhood

When you’ve walked out farther than you know you should

Where the tree-limbs beckon you into the wood

Where the forest meets the street.

Here at the edge of the neighborhood

There’s a voice that longs to be understood

And it might be bad, and it might be good

But its call is low and sweet.

Here at the edge of the neighborhood

Where you know you’d go if you only could

For it sings bewitching brotherhood

As it tugs your willing feet.

Here at the edge of the neighborhood

Where once upon a time you stood

There’s a wisp that glows where you left for good

And made the wood complete.