Girasoles

Girasoles sway in wind outside the sad vacant house across the street. They are very high, almost filling spaces where small thin children played. Shrill cries, and shouts, floated across the narrow street, assaulted my ears. These tall sunflowers are so stubborn, so quiet, so yellow and so brown. But now, I would trade them all for another chance to see, to hear, some noisy children at their play. Tomorrow I will help to clean up that yard, may recommend new tenants -- other children. And, I will not miss those brown and yellow girasoles.