tribute to willow glen from my autumn year of high school

its days are made up of children yelling and a car's engine revving
a lawn mower and a dog or two barking.

the residents consist of extremes of the young and extremes of
the old, some teenagers, some tired parents, and the just
married.

the cars driven were the newest model of its year
complete with cup holder and a sixty-dollar bill every time it needs gas

houses are filled with college degrees, pictures of distant
relatives, a secret hidden recipe or two, shredded papers
with important information, and a heavy
coat for that
one
really
cold
day.

its location is in the cross-section of wealth, like the war movies
before the sixties,
and if you venture three miles to one side
you'll find parents who can't feed their children.

the school district is not the best
but that's california for you
thus the children are forced into private schools
secular or non, but mostly the first

the main streets are: lincoln meridian minnesota bird pine.
when pine turns into hamilton you've gone too far.
the highways of choice are 280 and 87.
you can only get to 85 or 101 by 280 and 87.

it has a cal-train and a light rail and
a bus system but the only riders are
desperate or meager or one random high school
girl without a car.