City Quiet

City Quiet To my mom, in memory Your favorite summer sound was that of the cicadas and locusts skricking at night. Coming home from a dance or party you'd stop and listen. On the Parkway late pairs of lovers sat on the far benches happily alone. The 2 train lurched to a stop with its trademark screech. All around, city quiet, not silence, but many sounds that should not have been but somehow ended up emitting harmony.