My Place

I’m sitting on the front steps of a lovely church. To the right of me are jade leaves entranced by the rolling of a warm breeze. Birds on branches are chirping a medley that creates a symphonic membrane around the intersection, a visually imperceptible emotive field that cars pierce through with their hurry. Engines rumble as they meld with the horizon. Their echoes fade, then more take their place. The day continues, but it’s nice right here where I am. On these steps, I rest—on these steps, my place next to the leaves.