A boy yells to be let into an apartment building, frustrated with attitude. A young woman barks at a young man, following him around the basketball court with threats of rage. Hula Hoopers Hula by the bandstand. No music is heard. Children play on the swings and elderly walk around the exterior as young adults run laps by them. Dogs sniff and a motorcycle makes its presence abundantly known. The bicyclist speeds by in short shorts and the young auburn head with red shoes listens to headphones as smoke emits from her mouth. A man yawns below a tree as Old Glory slumps atop the pole. The clouds move too slow, as if from a painting; and the sun sets a bit faster yet just as unnoticeable.
It is evening at the Salem Common and no one cares but the singular sense of themselves. No one cares what’s happening around them; their senses don’t know the changes when they come. What was here is here and is still yet to come. There is only the self-absorption of a dog inside a house and someone on the porch. If trees could laugh they most surely would, though certainly not with us. We don’t yet know how to laugh with the trees.
Keeping the old and in with the new, but there isn’t enough room for what God has in store for us. Will we be scarred when all that we know is taken away? Or will we be overJoyed by the abundance of Blessings that we find behind the next door?
As for me, I want nothing to do with the barking on the court. My tail is already wagging in anticipation of our next treat. I wonder what it will be…
I was born and now it is today.