God and the Traffic Calming Device:

It seems she was running into God more often lately and this was particularly comforting for her. She couldn't put her finger on it, but He seemed to pop in and out of her everyday with his neatly pressed suit, his Starbucks coffee, and that beaming, yet quiet smile.

Today he wore blue jeans and was sitting cross-legged on a speed bump.

She wasn't quite sure that's what she saw at first either - but as she left the house, she noticed him sitting peacefully in the road next to the house, the yellow bump beneath him.

He was sitting close enough to her driveway that she feared backing into him, so she approached and asked his purpose for being there.

"This is a comfy spot," He remarked as she got nearer, "Did you know they call them 'traffic calming devices?'

"I did not," she responded, "Why are you here?"

"I didn't want you to miss me today," He said. "The city is very busy and I was not sure you could see me in all that traffic. Thought this was a better idea. May I have a sip of your coffee?"

"Sure," she replied, handing him her mug. "You are commenting on my road rage, I suppose," she added.

"Just wanted you to know I'm around in case you need to talk about anything - well that and that I'm likely nearby all the time, even in the most annoying places."

"Thanks," she said.

"Don't mention it."

He stood up, brushed his jeans off and headed back down the street.

It was then she realized, they were becoming friends.

Campfire Song

Come here, Boy.
Sit next to my skins
And play the string a bit louder.
I cannot remember myself
Without the tune.

Wear that earthiness
We know so well
And fear not the dampening reeds
Around the pit -

Growing wider and threatening
To put out the fire of summer
And last minute love stories.

I know not the camp of our youth
Anymore.
Anymore, I cannot remember my morning
Or the one before that -

One night when you brushed
My hair aside
And told me it'd be another year
Before we met again.