Yesterday morning (which was actually last weekend!)...listening to 88.5...
Music to honor MLK
A great playlist. This one really caught my attention and brought back a fond memory.
From this PLAYLIST
👉🏾 👉🏾 👉🏾
Once again, I'll claim to be scattered, not really doing/posting much, but starting posts, and finishing them eventually. A record of days as they are.
This is one of those, obviously.
They flit back into the environmentally sensitive native and succulent plants
as the vibrations of my feet move towards them
big, small, tiny...fast
they are there if you are looking
You have to be looking
I'm looking and pausing, giving them space
Each night, at the same cross street, the light turns red
I stop
I watch the team of men working
older white van parked curbside
The men wear headlamps, clamp lights on the chainlink fence nearby
Each night, they are very busy moving things
The old white van stuffed full, including the rooftop
Each night, I try to discern what they have stuffed in that van
I try to see, while the light is red, what are the many items in and on the van, on the sidewalk all lined up, hanging from the chainlink fence
One night I see a ladder
Another night many extension cords, coiled up and ready for use
I wonder profusely, where these items came from and where they are going?
Who are these folks?
Do they live behind the chainlink fence on the foundation of a once there house?
Someone lives back there now
These questions will probably go unanswered forever
I'm okay with that
Questions don't always need answers, do they?
The tent is gone, the umbrella is also gone, but she remains
Sitting atop her throne, smoking a cigarette - face to the morning sun
I see her each morning there,
but at night, she disappears into the dark charcoal heap of blankets
Likely unseen by the many commuters traveling by
Last Friday morning, as I move down the road, I notice someone new
Standing next to her is a white-haired man
They are each holding a disposable coffee cup
talking in the morning sun
*This reminds me of Grace & Jude's recent neighborly encounters and makes me happy for her human connection on this day
Rain came, again
It was enough to see it falling, which sounds odd I know
It was loud enough to hear, which while again sounds odd, but is common around here
We often can barely see or hear the rain, even with a sliding door and a metal roofed carport
Next the wind came, many different days of Wind
Big Wind
