All is quiet except
The rumble of trucks at the bakery down the street loading palates of fresh bread is my auditory companion as I write tonight. It is twenty minutes to three in the morning and the South Philly is warm and humid. There is a gentile breeze blowing in from the west as the rumbling trucks grow silent.Small things keep me occupied and I feel isolated or perhaps distracted from any pressing concerns. My belly is full and my body is clean while the people around me sleep, I read and I write.
I was fortunate today to speak to my father and my sister. They are both strong people who work hard.
Three blocks away there are people from New Orleans living in a school. I don't know how many, or how long they will reside in our neighborhood. I wish them well but I have not gone there to visit or volunteer.
The wind continues to blow as it always has and always will. I know that hundreds of miles away the Mississippi River continues to flow the way she
always has, and I miss her clean Minneapolis banks. The Delaware River does not compare, harnessed to industrial ugliness, the locals mostly ignore her, except for at Penn's landing where especially in the dark, she makes a nice reflecting backdrop for the lights on the bridges.
JB aka JayBee created this post at 2:38 AM.
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