In My Neighborhood

Sitting on a brick wall,
the wind blew through
my hair and saved my life.

The boys let accusations fly,
"You're out!" I am reminded,
you take life way too seriously.

God beckoned me upward,
crows warned of coming black clouds,
a hawk drifted effortlessly.

A child's remote-control
reminds me of how I have
given up the illusion of my dominion.

In light of that reminder
I don't even let "Be careful" slip out
as my daughter contemplates a leap.

Jangling bells from her sister's handlebar
seem to reveal a secret:
"Childhood is sacred" the rhythm sings.

Two doors down, piles of brown newspapers
offer a mystery. Vacation? Illness? Just busy?
I decide they're too happy to read the news.

--Shenandoah Lynd