The Quiet Place
As children in our country
neighborhood,
mornings to nights were
filled with sounds
of children playing, fighting,
laughing
shouting from one large
yard to another
or parents calling or
whistling for their kids.
Pappap would leave his
house open
when he’d be working out
and about
or visiting his lady
friend in Johnstown.
We’d usually play in their
together
with all our noise and commotion.
But the times I went in
alone, I’d marvel
at how still and quiet it
was in there.
I’d snatch some orange circus
peanuts
from the striped ceramic candy
dish.
The clattering lid broke
the silence.
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