Odes to Kirkwood · Track 20 · closer
Kirkwood's Porch Light: A Goodnight Kiss
Closing piece — the bungalow porch lights coming on at dusk. Neighbors waving goodnight, the kids being called in, the slow domestic close of the day. The intimate goodnight kiss of the Kirkwood evening.
Lyrics
[Intro] Porch light on Wisteria Way, you flicker at 8:30 PM, late spring, 2020, casting yellow on the wooden railing. [Verse 1] Bessie Branham's oak leaves rustle, across from the park dedicated in 1968, kids scatter from the swings, mothers call from bungalow steps, "Time to come in, night’s falling." Jasmine scent drifts, mixing with cooling grass, a gentle 70 degrees on skin. You, the glass globe, old pull-chain clicking, light up the creaking swing. [Chorus] Goodnight kiss, porch light, soft hum against indigo sky. Neighbors wave from deep overhangs, Craftsman roofs low and gabled. You hold the evening's close, intimate as a lover's breath. [Verse 2] Bicycles lean on steps, mason jars of leftover sweet tea empty on the rail. From Hosea L. Williams Drive, echoes of the day fade, train whistle distant now. You illuminate faces, Black families who've held this block since the 1960s, waving to newcomers, porch to porch. [Bridge] In your glow, history lingers— Bessie herself might have sat here, educator's legacy in the shade. The pull-chain's click, a remnant from 1920s wiring, seals the day's end. What’s missing: those first voices, working-class whispers lost to time. But you, light, remember. [Chorus] Goodnight kiss, porch light, soft hum against indigo sky. Neighbors wave from deep overhangs, Craftsman roofs low and gabled. You hold the evening's close, intimate as a lover's breath. [Outro] Click off later, but for now, shine on Kirkwood's dusk. Goodnight.