Grateful

I am grateful that when I walk out my door there is a town full of people doing things. A city with buses and people and cars and dogs and hot coffee.

At night the baseball lights come on and the top of the apartment house next door is lit by a triangle of light shining until the games are over.

Each night before I pull the bedroom shade, I look for the triangle of light, and I miss it on the nights they do not play.