Never really knowing anyone’s name for long;
Everyone moves eventually
In this little bunch of circles off a street.
Gone faster than you can even learn some of their names.
Happy here in a way we haven’t been…ever.
But knowing that here is just like many other places
Or maybe we’ll luck out and find another home
Right where we least expected it.
Half of the adults rarely meet, yet all the children are kept in sight.
Oh, how does such a place where no one knows who you are
Or where you come from still be as safe as can be?
Dynamics of a place where every child is precious, even when they aren’t your own.
Written for today’s Daily Post prompt and because this is kind of what my little neighborhood is like. Only people that don’t live here drive the full 25 mph; everyone else drives at something like 10 mph because small children and dogs sometimes chase balls and other toys out into the street. Most of the dogs have some kind of pit bull in them, but every single dog that gets out (again, most of them) are probably some of the sweetest dogs I have ever met (and once I had a Golden Retriever puppy who thought that my siblings were her puppies.)
This is probably one of the friendliest neighborhoods I have ever lived in and also the only one where I never know the names of the adults, but know the names of most of the children.