A Common Thread

You are kind and thoughtful, gentle and compassionate, generous and caring. A sunny smile on a dreary day you offer in passing. Retrospectively, I think of you taking precious time out of your days, you delivered groceries when I fractured one leg and sprained the other ankle. Silently, you listened while I raucously ascended and descended those three treacherous flights of stairs on my crutches for eight long weeks. After more than a few hard lessons, you learned that I cherish my privacy above all else. During the worst of coastal storms we become chatty, more friendly finding among us a common thread in disastrous weather. We’re in this together. You are my neighbors and you are welcome, for a while.
You walk the seawall, walk your babies, children, old folks, dogs, cats and yes, even porcupines. From my window, I view you as you surf those majestic waves in seasons four. Serenely, you paddle, standing erect on your boards of fiber on glassy surfaces in the golden glow of the sunrise. You fish for yourself, fish for us, you are there, at my door, as loyal and trustworthy as the Atlantic Ocean itself.
You bring your friends to visit; your family, your college roommates, your children, grandchildren, nieces and nephews, aunts, uncles and cousins. Floating your kayaks, sailing, flying, whirling dervish machines of every manner, you fill our world with fun and laughter and sirens. The rockets red glare, together we view fireworks reflected on a mid summer’ nights beach. You are my neighbors. We’re in this together. You are welcome here, for a summer’s short while.
We love each other and we hate each other. We tolerate each other. From my eagle’s nest view I see you who you are. I see that we’re all in this together. We’re neighbors all and we are more than welcome here, for a while.
You or even I sometimes breach boundaries, overstep where lines have been drawn. A cross word perhaps is passed. Once again we must revisit the laws and by laws, bring in the surveyors transit. Doors are closed, slammed shut. Ideas of mine, yours; standing our ground. One dare to step over that line, fences and walls enter our heads, begin to build.
One up you, a show of arms.
Fences, arms and walls,
nice view.
Dear, dear Neighbor of mine,
I miss you.

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/afterthought/”>Retrospective</a&gt;

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