For the prompt at Poets United – Neighbors.


We live out in the country on a deadend,
cul de sac’ed road.
There are eight different families on this road.
The houses are separated by thick hedges, not fences.
We wave when passing a car or each other
on our morning walks.
We keep to ourselves.
It is a quiet road with no children.
Pets stay in the houses or in their yards.
But when my mother died,
somehow they knew.
A jar of homemade jam tied to the doorknob,
A bouquet delivered to my door,
several cards stuck in the mailbox.
I share tomatoes when I have extra,
they share extra cucumbers and squash.
My favorite kind of neighbors –
unobtrusive, quiet, polite,
casually friendly –
but there when you need them.


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